


Swallowed Us Whole

by psychedelicurchin



Series: Swallowed Us Whole [1]
Category: Dan Avidan - Fandom, Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party (Band), Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Skyhill (Band), Starbomb (Band), The Northern Hues (Band)
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, I'll add tags as I progress, IT'S GONNA BE CUTE I PROMISE, Love, Masturbation, but it's gonna be fun, cheating but it's in the past, dan is probably ooc especially baby dan, i have no idea what i'm doing honestly, i just really REALLY wanted to try my hand at this???, in a band, it'll hurt too, no worries about that in the present, reader has known dan for a long time ok, there are some time jumps here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-01 10:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10919886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychedelicurchin/pseuds/psychedelicurchin
Summary: Ten years after you chose someone else, you're in the same city again, still making music, and you're absolutely uncertain if you want to let him walk back into your life when he finds you unexpectedly. You never really did think you deserved someone like Dan. Maybe it's not so simple as "deserving" anything.





	1. Tidal Wave

**Author's Note:**

> ok a ~note~ for y'all I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN GRUMPS FIC BEFORE, never written any of them at all, so I'm really sorry if my characterization is whack, I'm trying to find my hold on them. also, for whatever reason, I was HELLA inspired to start writing this while I was listening to the last Taking Back Sunday album at like 2 in the morning the other night and took a couple days to plot it out?? so Idek what that's about but they're the ones who own "Tidal Wave" not really reader's band and I'll probably make multiple references to their lyrics throughout this mess so yeah ok there's THAT disclaimer, I own none of that.
> 
> UPDATE 9/29/17: Mature chapters are now marked with an * at the beginning! If you don't want to read mature content (it's very likely sexual, I don't foresee any mature violence happening in this fic) then you do not have to. I can't guarantee you won't miss any plot developments, but hey I'm all about happy readers.

It isn't a concert, but a Battle of the Bands is better than nothing. It's encouraging, a potential springboard to better venues and fan growth, not the proverbial gutter to pick your gigs from. Not that that's where you've been relegated to, far from it, but it would be a lie should any one of the band try and claim they're satisfied. You sure as hell aren't.

But then, you haven't been satisfied in a very long time, if you ever were to begin with.

You catch yourself trying to replicate the shock of the cool air you took before you came back inside and took your place. There's no way to catch it indoors, crammed full of people as it is. Conversation cycles its way around the room, and you wish you had something better to center yourself on. The lights aimed at the stage shoot back on in a flourish of brightness, and the crowd's buzzing chatter dulls for a moment.

_"Please welcome to the stage Average White Shark!"_

You feel the smirk edge over your lips as your fingers flex gently around the neck of your guitar, as the announcer reads your band off the list. You exchange quick looks and short nods with your bandmates. It's the drummer's go first, the rest of you jumping in together a few measures in.

"What's gonna happen when the old man goes? Will you embrace chaos or embrace control? When the guns are drawn outside your doors, will you call for peace or will you join the war?"

There's a bouncing sway in your body as the lyrics come from you easily. The charismatic and charming grin on your face is natural, running on the adrenaline of performing. This band isn't one you've had for long. In point of fact, you've got a string of bands behind you, but there's a good feeling here. The reception to witticisms and the energy each one of you bring to the band has been spectacular. If you could just get a little push- just a little one.

"What's gonna happen on your dying day? Will you turn to dirt or find the pearly gates? Oh no, no, no you don't know. Ahh no, no, no you don't know!"

Part of you thrives on the attention as the front of the band. You catch yourself at times flashing winks and grins at people close to you, at the front of the stage. It isn't that you need to have the spotlight. You could go without; it just comes with your chosen territory of lead vocalist and guitarist, and you mold yourself fluidly right along with it.

"You can beg! You can plead! You can try! You can pray! Nothing's gonna save you from the tidal wave," you and the bassist sing together. What attention you were paying to the audience is, in an instant, poured into your guitar through this chorus. The fans are nice, but it wasn't having fans that's kept you alive and kicking as long as you have. It's been the music, those good old stinging rough patches on your fingertips when you've gone too hard at practice and the croak to your voice when you've given all you can sing.

For a fraction of a second, you could swear you see a mass of brown curls somewhere in the crowd, in the swimming constant motion of bodies and heads. In the same fraction it's gone again, but the cogs are in motion to the point you have to make an almost noticeable effort to rein in your focus again and stop searching for a memory. The city is big; there could be any number of people with that hair.

 _But there aren't,_ your mind is quick to tell you. Logically of course there are, but there's no one like Dan and no hair like Dan's either.

"So what's gonna happen when the old man goes?" You don't miss your cue, thank fuck, and manage to put those thoughts shoved off to the side as far as you can get them and just _keep going_. Every ounce of you gets put into your singing and your fingers running over your guitar's faithful strings. You're grinning again; it'll hurt later, facial muscles not used to this much smiling for so long, but it's worth it. Even if Average White Shark doesn't go anywhere, you wouldn't trade these moments for anything. It's just _fun._ It's music and art and making people happy and watching them dance, watching them enjoy what _you made_ together and it's an experience altogether impossible to replicate. Every single one is different, in its own ways.

You're not looking at the crowd as much anymore though, and when you do, it's quick, not letting your eyes linger in any one area long enough to really pick up on anything.

"You can beg! You can plead! You can try! You can pray! Nothing's gonna save you from the tidal wave!" The music intensifies for this last round of a chorus, all of you giving it your best to make sure at the very least you went out well. "You can run! You can hide! You can leave! You can stay-"

You can feel your words coming and your hands still playing, but you aren't really sure of how it's happening, because you're frozen to the spot. He's _here._ He's so close to the stage- to _you_ \- painfully close to how you had imagined he must have aged in all this time. He's just standing there; you think you can detect some movement, not truly just standing there like a gangly statue amongst dancers of varying sobriety.

He's _smiling_ at you. It's soft, a slight little thing, that anyone else might not have noticed but you're you, and he's Dan, and a smile is the absolute last thing you deserve from him.

How long is it that you stare at him? A couple of seconds? A handful?

At once everything within you yanks your vision down to your guitar and you finish out the song.

"Nothing's gonna save you from the tidal wave! Nothing's gonna save you from the tidal wave, oh!"

You keep your eyes up while the band basks in the applause. It's enough, at first, to distract you. That grin is back. It's on everyone up there on stage, infectious and proud and fucking pumped. If they would just let you do one more song, hang the rules, but it's a selfish wish.

"We are Average White Shark, everybody, steer clear of those beaches! Thank you!" you shout into your mic with a fist pump into the air, mimicked back to you by several.

The second you're off that stage, you're bolting for the back door in a clamor for that cold air and an escape. The breaths come gulped in, a little frantic at first.

It wasn't as if you hadn't known this was technically possible. You'd be a liar to try and say you had never put his name through Google. You knew he was in Los Angeles. You knew what he'd been up to. What you'd never thought was he'd show up to some hole in the wall Battle of the Bands, ever so conveniently the one you happened to be playing in.

You had calmed, standing still in this back parking lot and looking ahead of you at nothing in particular, purely listening to the sounds of the city. They enveloped you, the longer you tuned out everything else. Automobile engines rumbled along streets. The sounds from the bar filtered out to you. There were a handful of bands to go on still; you had plenty of time to collect and compose yourself. And you _would._ You had to.

"Hey."

It's hard to tell how close he is; he sounds so loud, but is that just you? You, who's kept his voice memorized in the deepest depths of your soul and felt it pinch inside like a bandaid's rip now. You desperately want to not turn around, but you know that isn't going to happen. Still, it's not going to happen right away. You fight it, studying the asphalt beneath your boots while your arms folded in front of yourself protectively.

"That's not a shot at me, right? Average White Shark?" You could feel him smiling, and you were too. It felt alien to you all of a sudden, smiling. You didn't want to anymore. You just wanted to go back to- well- not this.

"No, my band's name is not about your fear of sharks," you reply. The ability to not smile seeps out of you even faster when you turn around to him; it grows on you, even though there's a quietness that keeps itself wedged between the two of you.

"Didn't think I'd see you at a little Battle of the Bands, Danny Sexbang," you say after a beat. He tilts his head only slightly; you only notice it in a nuance of shifting curls.

"You know about that?" he asks. You nod, looking towards your feet again.

"Yeah," you admit. "I know about that... You've come a long way since the Skyhill days."

"So have you." You get the inkling Dan isn't referring to your music career, though it could be part of it. You shrug. "How long have you been out here?"

"Here as in standing in the parking lot or here as in California?" It's avoiding the question, but at least you're being funny. You think you are anyway. You think you're hilarious. He laughs, sarcastically but he's smiling, and then you're smiling, and then you're both just giggling like idiots for a minute and you don't feel so cold.

"Hanging out in back parking lots is your thing now, huh?" he teases. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything. Waiting on a hot parking lot date?"

"Best place to find 'em, lemme tell you," you joke right back, shaking your head as you chuckle, then the quiet sneaks its way back in.

_I missed you._

The words sit on the tip of your tongue, but you won't say them. It's what you deserve, missing him. What you don't deserve is having his presence back in your life, all soft brown eyes and fluff and long limbs wrapped up in endearing optimism and jokes that you always rolled your eyes at but laughed anyway and _talent_ , mother of God the talent in that man...

"I-" You and Dan start at the same time; you laugh nervously and back off. "You first." He runs a hand through his hair, looking off to the side, and you can't help but smile a little again. His hair was never this long when you were close, but you had seen its fluffiness before. Just not to this level.

"I thought you were good," he admits to you, once the thought has been collected and spoken and he looks up at you. It's questioning, like he's trying to figure where the statement rests with you, good or bad.

"Oh, thanks," you say and you mean it, however bashful it comes out and how unnatural that is regarding your music, as you grin in awkward shyness and shrug it away. You know the band did a good job. You know _you_ did a good job, but this is Dan- you're still trying not to let your memory break down the door you have it locked behind- and that means more to you than you want it to.

Ten fucking years later, it still means more when it comes from him.

"Did you... uh," you trail off, tongue tied. What you mean to ask is if he came there for you. "I mean- did you know I would..."

"No, that was a surprise, actually," he says. You're really unconvinced that you've successfully hidden your disappointment, but you can't blame him. If memory serves you- and you know goddamn well it does- why would he seek you out? Other than whatever exactly this unexpected conversation was, following you out there. If he even had. It could have been coincidence. All of this could be purely coincidental just to spite your mistakes and to leave you reeling in how uncertain you were about the whole thing. That would have been about life's speed.

"I see," you utter lamely, looking down. Silly as it was, there was a small part of you that had dared hope maybe he had.

Dan watches you and your defensive body language, hiding behind the fold of your arms and wisps of black hair sliding across your face, the bangs you've been growing out with painstaking slowness that don't quite reach to the appropriate shark bow clipped at the back of your head. The bright violet of the bottom half of hair is a nice touch. You always were one for unnatural colors, if he remembers right (and he does).

"I-I mean- of course not, wow, I'm sorry," you halfway laugh, shaking your head incredulously at yourself. "I know it sounded like it but I wasn't making that assumption."

"No, I get it." He waves it off like it's nothing, and you can feel the flush of heat in your face and your neck. You did make that assumption. You entertained the idea that maybe, just maybe, he had caught wind of your name or seen your face on a promotional image and came there to see you, concocted some romantic and perfectly absurd idea that you even slightly mattered to him anymore, here in the present. You're a real piece of work sometimes.

"But I'm happy that you're doing alright," Dan says. You lift your eyes, and he's looking at you already. He's got his hands in his pockets and his head cocks to the side as you just look at each other. There's an offering of a smile. You try to return it, and it's a little pathetic really, but at least you tried.

"Yeah," you say simply. Doing alright. And you are, you suppose. You aren't on the street. You aren't living in an overly crowded and too-small space. You have enough money to do laundry when you need it. You have your band. You have your guitar and your day job at a call center and teaching guitar on the side. Alright isn't an inaccurate description, but you were doing much more alright before that curly mane shattered your focus during your song and waltzed right back into your life and started, without even meaning to, poking around in your head and feelings like he owned the damn things.

And suddenly you're _angry_ , and unsure of where exactly that's directed, at you or at Dan. How dare he come here tonight? How dare he bring himself back into your train of thought, after you've worked so hard to get him out of it for ten years, after... after everything, after how sure you were of what must have been your aftermath? And how dare you even _care_ what he did? After all of the same points, how dare you for even a moment put so much weight into what he may or may not have been doing? This is all a fluke, a cruel one but a fluke all the same, and there's nothing more to it. The book is still closed. There is no continuation of your story. The story of (Y/N L/N) and Dan Avidan has already been written, and it isn't going to be picked up again.

Because it just _isn't_.

Right?

"I should go back inside," you blurt out abruptly, before the heat in your face can garner up any significant shade of pink and hopefully before he can notice anything at all. You brush past him in quick, purposeful steps before you can change your mind or he can say something to get you to stop.

"(Y/N)." But you stop for him anyway, hesitate, and you turn around, tongue in your cheek. You aren't going to say anything else. You almost flinch at the look he gives you; it's so goddamn soft and you don't deserve an ounce of it. You aren't sure if he notices that, but you're pretty sure he does. For just a second, he's a little thrown off. Not hurt; you've seen that one before. You've got it seared into your memory like a regretful tattoo.

Maybe he underestimated how hard you still are on yourself about everything. Maybe that's why he's here.

Maybe this is far less about you than you're making it. There's still the chance you really are not that important in his life, and you're a memory he's only dusting off when circumstance happened to bring you to light.

"You take care of yourself, Dan," you tell him, managing a smile, then you're back on your path.

This time, as you wind your way back through bodies to your waiting bandmates, the coolness stays with you.


	2. Even When I Look Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> even when I look back now,  
> try to slow it down somehow;  
> it's something that I can't explain,  
> a fever running through my veins.
> 
> (of far off first kisses and instagram anxiety)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no fucking idea what i'm doing and i'm sorry there isn't more present-day dan in this, i just really wanted to have more to post than the band chapter to get this ball slowly rolling.

There's a mix of nerves and eagerness on his face while you listen, even while it's casual. You know it's not to him though, not entirely. Not as casual as you are, sprawled across your beat-up couch with your head on his thigh and your eyes honed in on Pokemon.

It's funny; you haven't really known Dan for that long, but your friendship evolved so quickly that it's like you've been connected all your lives. You wouldn't hesitate to call him your best friend. In fact you don't; you always introduce him as such, and he doesn't stop you.

What's playing on his mind- and filling up your tiny apartment's space- is Skyhill's album, or soon to be; it hasn't been released yet. You gloated earlier about being special. He didn't correct you there either, although he did laugh.

You've noticed he laughs a lot at the dumb things you say. So you keep saying them, because goddamn, when the boy laughs it's beautiful. It's impossible not to be happy when he can light up a room with a grin, and you can't help but giggle at the very least once you do get him laughing.

Sometimes the two of you get carried away in this chain reaction and can't stop, and you're just laughing at the other one laughing, and eventually he'll snort, and you could swear it's the cutest thing you've seen or heard.

"I really like this one," you say softly. The Pokemon gameplay has slowed down significantly, your focus much more on the songs than your pixelated progress. His fingers trail through your hair absentmindedly and you smile, letting your eyes shut.

"Yeah?" he asks. When you look up at him, he's already looking back at you, and your smile grows. Just a little.

"Yeah," you repeat. "I mean, I really like all of them. I don't know what you were worried about, honestly."

"There's way too little guitar in this!" he jokes in a feminine voice mocking you. You try to fix him with a look, but it's hard; almost instantly you've fallen into snickering and from there it's just a downhill roll into laughing. There's that grin you love so much.

 _Like_ so much. Excuse your initial thoughts.

"I need more cowbell!" you demand. Now Dan's laughing too, and you're satisfied.

"Do you have a fever?"

"I really do. It's bad."

"Where am I supposed to find you a cowbell in Brooklyn?"

"Honestly I'm sure it's much easier than it sounds."

"Is that really the only cure? That's so much work," he whines. You sit up quickly, clutching your chest in offense.

"Excuse me, are you downplaying my fever right now?" you ask in shock. "I thought we were _friends_ , Danny."

"I'm taking this very seriously, thank you," he corrects. "This whole thing with 'oh I really like this one' could be a fever dream. You could actually think it sucks, and how would we know?" You're laughing again at his dumb mocking voice, whenever he means to mimic you, and he's grinning, so cheeky and pleased with himself.

"If I was delirious I definitely think we'd know," you chuckle. "No boundaries anywhere."

"Oh damn, sexy delirium," he supposes in giggles when you wiggle your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner.

"Oooh, I have a fever," you whine sexually, rolling your hips beneath you as if riding the couch cushion as one hand nestles in your hair. "I need more _cowbell_!" On this last word, you toss your head back, your other hand cradling one of your boobs over your t-shirt. You sneak a sideways look at Dan and immediately lose composure, falling against the couch as you laugh openly. "Oh my god- your fucking face," you wheeze.

"What the fuck was that!?" he sputters in defense. "Fuck, woman!"

"It's that sexy delirium!"

To your relief, you're both laughing, you more than Dan but you still get the sound and the smile. At one point you try to adjust to a more comfortable position, but the couch is not a forgiving piece of aging and misshapen furniture and you really just fall right over against Dan.

"Oh, hi."

"Better not be more of that sexy delirium nonsense," he warns. You huff some hair out of your face and roll your eyes, though smirking.

There's a quiet that settles, as you listen to wherever the music's progressed to; lord knows you lost track, and Dan probably did too. Whatever the song now, you still like it. You'd listen to him sing the damn alphabet and you'd like it.

"Fuck, Danny, you really do have a great voice," you tell him, shifting so you can look up at him while still lazily laying on him. "That's not fever. That's real talk. People are gonna love this."

"You think so?" he asks, almost absently.

"I know so," you insist. You see him smile, and you smile in turn. That's what belongs on his face. Only smiles. Anything less makes the world a little dimmer.

"I just wanted to make sure you love it first," he says, almost like a thought casually drifting out of him on a breath. You aren't even sure you were supposed to hear it, but he isn't making moves to cover it or backtrack. He's just sitting there, calmly letting you keep your weight smushed against him until you sit up, slowly, watching his face. For a second you squint, debating your thoughts. He looks bemused and then squints back until you break and grin, and he chuckles.

Then there's that quiet, softly serenaded by the recordings. He's counting the freckles you usually cover up more fully with makeup while you're trying to pin down the exact brown of his eyes.

In the back of your mind is where you should stay, with Garrett. Your boyfriend. The one you're actually currently dating. The one who isn't really around for you like Dan is but he was there first, and things never had to change.

But at the front of your mind is Dan, right here and now, and you don't fight when your lips are on his and neither does he. In a minute you've crawled over his lap, his hand finding the small of your back while you tangle your fingers in his hair. He whines softly, making you smile into your kiss and give a little pull. He holds you a little closer.

When you break, he only kisses you again, unwilling to let you go so soon.

And again, and again, and again.

* * *

The alarm is all at once a hellish and refreshing noise. You groan yourself awake, fumbling to smack its button hard enough to make it stop beeping at you.

You lost track of how many times throughout the night you dreamed of the first time you and Dan kissed, though you're fairly certain it's the only one you had, on repeat. A hard shake of your head a couple of times temporarily knocks you more alert, and you snatch up your phone off its charging cord and power on as you stand, feel your feet's way into a pair of umbreon slippers and pad your way around your apartment.

Average White Shark didn't win first, but second is certainly a nice prize too, and the exposure will be helpful. You smile as you scroll through text notifications about the show and, from there, Instagram comments and tags. There's some wonderful pictures of the band in action. You look like a loon in some of them, a consequence of action shots, but they make you laugh as you wait for your tea water to heat.

You're not laughing when you see someone particularly notable in the small list of new followers you have.

_Dan._

You stare at his handle, danny__avidan, as if you've suddenly lost the ability to read and it's all a jumble of letters to you. Suddenly all you want to do is go back to bed, and pray to any higher power listening to _not_ give you that dream again.

Do you follow him back? What does it mean, that he even looked you up to follow you? Is he trying to reach out to you? Does he want to be friends? Does he... But then are you reading too much into this? You probably are. You always do. This is just Dan being friendly and casual. You were once able to call each other best friends, and you might have even loved him. Surely he's perfectly within his acceptable limits to follow you on Instagram, and you can handle that, can't you?

The phone goes down, face down in fact, as you prepare your tea. It doesn't take long though, once it's steeping, for you to cave to your curiosity and start scrolling through his feed. Stubbornly, you try to convince yourself it's the hunger that hurts and not, well, _you_ , not like you're feeling something. It's just your stomach and not an ache in your chest as you look over image after image of his dumb, smiling, adorable face. His hair is so long and out of control now. You wonder what it feels like so much your fingers almost hurt. He's got such a following, and he's so silly and wonderful and... and this _does_ hurt. This is so much more than hunger.

You're _crying_ , you realize shortly, sniffing and wiping furiously at your eyes with your nightshirt.

"Oh, fuck you," you sniffle angrily at the phone, as you follow him back. You'll hate the decision later, you're sure, but for now you just can't not do it.

It's just casual friendliness, after all. Just keep telling yourself that.


	3. You're Little but You Ain't Small

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt like a giant when I sat beside you;  
> you're little but you ain't small.  
> and from the comfort of that couch in the sad part of Brooklyn,  
> the train took forever so most nights we'd just stay in.
> 
> (of inner thoughts and more coincidences)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENS

Dan remembers things differently than you do.

He remembers the subtleties about you, your habits and how telling they were about whatever you were feeling, the specific looks your eyes took on to convey that same point. You still bite your lip when you're stalling; he noticed that the previous night. When you move to music, you still put the bulk in your hips. You're still trying to be something pretty and alluring as long as you're on a stage. Your voice has matured; the range is broader, and you wouldn't have hit some of the lower notes you'd hit during that song back in Brooklyn. So has your guitar playing, but to that, if you kept at it, he'd never had doubts.

His last visual memory of you had been longer hair, a deep magenta that darkened into black ends. You'd been a little thinner then, but ten years changed bodies, and it didn't matter then and it didn't matter now. Your lip was pierced, a small silver ring always looped around the left side of your bottom lip. The only tattoo on your body was the invincibility star from the Mario videogames on your left wrist. There were always plans on more; you just always spent the money you were saving up on other things before you could.

Less than 24 hours ago he had seen hair cropped to near your shoulders; it was probably a bit beyond there, but the ends were curled a little inward, styled just a little. Patches of ink were memorialized into your skin beyond that star. You didn't have your lip ring anymore, but you did have a little sparkling stud on the right of your nose. The wings of your eyeliner could have been an opening act for the band. Your lipstick shared the purple of your hair's underside, but a tad darker, more burgundy than purple.

Dan remembers many things. He thinks of them before he thinks of the logic of what any of this is or what he's doing. It isn't that he hasn't thought of you. Rather, it's been a decade, and the path of his life has formed in many twists and turns from where either one of you had planned on back then. You haven't crossed that path until now. Crossed his mind- _yes._

Absolutely yes, and he's absolutely worked hard to let your memory go.

"Dude you're like, really spacing out on me right now," Arin prods, nudging him with an elbow while his gaze stays on the television screen and the changes of pressed buttons on the controller make faint clicks. They're increasing in speed and harshness, but Dan doesn't really pay them much mind, shaking his head and sitting up a little straighter to be both more interested and interesting.

"Yeah, sorry," Dan says quickly.

"Noooo! I just got FUCKED IN THE ASS," groans Arin dramatically, and Dan laughs. If there's one thing- though there's actually several upon several- he's grateful for about Arin, it's his distraction.

"You brought me back in just in time for the ass fucking," he giggles.

"Well, _of course_ ," Arin scoffs. "I mean I couldn't let you miss _that_. I know you wanna watch me get fucked in the butt."

"That is not a thing I want to watch."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Dan, you don't have to lie. We're all friends here."

"You have a very skewed definition of the word friends," Dan laughs, more of a renewal of it as it's not like he's ever really stopped.

"Come on, Dan! I'd watch you take a dick! Friends are there for each other through difficult times!"

"This is getting very weird," he says, almost politely compared to Arin's near shouting.

"Hey watch-" He's grateful for the sudden opportunity for Link to avenge himself in a potentially hilarious, to Arin, fashion. Just like that, they're back to earth. Arin jumps from dick jokes to normalcy (but then, dick jokes are well within his realm of normalcy) like it's nothing.

"Very nice."

"No but uh, you've seemed kind of out of it," and just like that, Arin's turned it back around to him. Dan had hoped he'd forget or at least just let go of it.

"Aww, Arin you _do_ care," he jokes, but then he's shrugging, unsure of how personal he wants to get- well, no. He knows he doesn't want to say anything.

But he also knows that maybe he'll feel better if he says _something_ , just in a way that isn't directly saying anything. If that even makes any sense. Probably not.

"No I've just... been thinking, like, do you ever- and this is probably going to be one of those things that sounds okay in my thoughts, but the actual saying of it is not going to go over well-"

"Sounds like a lot of this show," quips Arin, and Dan laughs again. There's a touch more lightness in him now, less stress of the figuring out on his chest.

"Do you ever kind of... feel like life is trying to tell you something? And like, everyone's path is so different but at the same time, we're all kind of on the same one inherently. We're all sharing the human experience and trying to go somewhere, and paths cross, and sometimes they don't cross again for years and when they do you're like... whoa, you know?"

"I mean..." Arin hesitates, frowning a little. "I think I get what you're saying. Like we're all trying to do our own things, but that 'all' is so collective that it's impossible to not influence somebody else's thing, at some point. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, kind of. I... Last night I saw this person who I used to be really close with, back in New York when I was still doing Skyhill, and y'know, life happened, as life does."

"As life does," Arin agrees. It signals he's with Dan so far, and he's a little reassured.

"And now it's been... fuck, it's been ten years, and now I guess they're here in LA, and it's really kind of jarring, you know? Like, here they are, they've been living their life and I've been living mine; we were once integral parts of that process for one another, and life took us in different directions, and it's just been like... Is there a reason for any of it now, you know what I mean? Why can we make so many marks on other people's lives and cross their paths, and then be gone, and cross back into it years later?"

"You're getting deep here man."

"Well one of us has to." Dan shrugs, then he's snickering and he sees Arin pass him a questioning glance. "You can't because you're the one getting fucked in the ass."

"Okay just because this game is threatening my asshole with some major dickery-"

"Major dickery!?" Dan repeats, erupting into giggles again.

" _Major dickery_ doesn't mean I can't have deep thoughts too, Dan, I can be a thinker too!"

"So do you ever feel that way, then?"

"Feel what way- _oh_ , like the- the life thing."

"Wow, you can definitely be a thinker, Arin. Forgot everything I was just saying."

"Noooo," he whines, directed at both the game and at Dan. "I get it though, like... Is fate or the universe or whatever trying to tell you something, or is life just one big coincidence right after another and it's all sort of meaningless outside of yourself?"

"Right. It's just been kind of fucking with me-"

"In the ass?"

"Not in the ass, oh my god, stop." He's a little exasperated, but he's chuckling in spite of the roll of his eyes, and there's Arin grinning away like a little shit.

"To everyone watching this video, if anyone ever tells you that exact sentence- you stop," he says pointedly. "Here at Game Grumps we do _not_ advocate anal sex without consent."

"Or any sex without consent."

"Exactly. Be decent people. Aaaaanyway," Arin agrees then redirects and looks at Dan briefly. He's not off the hook yet; he'll have to finish his thought.

"It's been fucking with me like, should I reach out to them? Should I do anything? Or should I just go on like it's nothing and if they do anything or we see each other again somewhere, then it's fine, that's what's supposed to happen, or... What do you do, man? You have the control in your life but you have _so little_ control at the same time!"

"Weeeeell next time on Game Grumps maybe we'll have figured out life's mystery."

"Philosophy Grumps."

"New series coming soon."

"Or is it? Soon is a matter of time, and time is a manmade construct," Dan laughs.

"Dicks are also a manmade construct."

No one is particularly surprised they've ended on a note about dicks. Certainly not the first time it's happened nor will it be the last.

* * *

"Did you come to lunch to hang out with your phone or with me?" The dark-clothed beauty across from you teases, raising a groomed eyebrow at you as you, embarrassedly, put your phone back down on the table.

"Sorry," you utter out sheepishly. "I just..."

"Did you meet someone?" Suzy grins. "Waiting for that fateful text?"

You haven't known Suzy for long. In fact you haven't even met the rest of her friends, nor she yours. The two of you bonded over the love of a same cosmetics brand in a store, as the pair of you had both reached for the last tube of a particular lip color at the same time. You admire her style; a witch if there ever was one, but also a cinnamon roll wrapped up in all that black. After you had mentioned someday that you'd once had a band called Wednesday and The Things, Suzy had refused to let you slip out of her life, and you couldn't deny you were grateful for the casual but not super frequent conversation over your phones. The two of you hadn't invaded each other's lives too much, the way you liked it honestly. You were just friends, and it was light and fun and those were things that you needed. This lunch date has been on the books for a couple of weeks; schedules hadn't let it happen any sooner.

"Oh my god, no," you blow off. You grin lightly anyway, as much as there's a biting thought about how yeah, actually, you did meet someone, but there's no texts coming. There's nothing.

"Hmmm, I seem to recall seeing you scrolling through an Instagram feed when I came back with my refill," she muses, a little accusingly, a little cheekily as she smiles around her straw and blinks innocently, charmingly. As Suzy does. You wince a little, but you laugh.

"Okay, okay," you concede, a bit of a sigh in there. "I know when I've been caught."

"Who is it?" she asks, head tilted to one side as her chin rests on her linked fingers. "Do you know him? Or are you just doing the whole lurker-crush thing?"

"I..." What _are_ you doing? That is a good question, and you frown towards the phone. You still haven't decided if you're going to do anything about this, other than returning his follow. He hadn't said anything or liked any of your posts. Likewise, you too haven't stepped into that territory. "I don't know. Kind of both."

"What do you mean, kind of both?" she asks. You know her interest has been piqued, and you groan, head back as you look briefly upward and you hear Suzy laughing. "Spill it!"

"God, okay... So like I already told you, last night was that Battle of the Bands." You pause and Suzy nods, with you on this. "And I just... kind of ran into this guy I used to know, back in Brooklyn. It's just crazy. I hadn't seen him in ten years. He's the last person I ever expected to look up and lay eyes on in a crowd I'm playing to, anymore."

"Awww," coos Suzy, smiling warmly. You roll your eyes, but you can feel the bashful smile coupled with the slight pooling of heat on your cheeks. Suzy's giggling at you. You're certain that doesn't help your face's coloring any.

"I mean it's nothing really. We just used to be really, really close and life took us in different ways, we lost touch, never really tried to get it back, and then he was just... you know, _there_ , watching my band, and he came outside and talked to me and I fucked that up too-"

"Wait, what else did you fuck up?" she interrupts, frowning and sitting straight.

Oh. You haven't said that part yet, have you?

"Oh... umm," you pause, biting different spots on your lip as you think on how to put your messy history. "We... kind of could have maybe had a life together but I chose the wrong person and the wrong life and left him behind in Brooklyn, but clearly he's been doing alright for himself, he's here and he's fine, and _I'm_ here and _I'm_ fine, so it all works out, right? Everybody's fine. Everybody wins."

Suzy's just staring at you, and you look at the table.

"You said Brooklyn, right?" she asks slowly, after a moment of you silently berating yourself, while she's been quietly watching and thinking, hashing out the sections of what you've given her. You murmur a hum of confirmation with a nod, looking up. She's figuring something out; you're a little wary of what. "How did you know him?"

"We were both in music," you say with a shrug. "I've always been trying to find the right band. We didn't meet that way though. We met at a comics store, but it was because we literally ran into each other, smacked heads, fell down, it was ridiculous."

"Oh no!" Suzy giggles, and you're grinning and chuckling with her. The change feels good.

"It was bad," you admit. "But we started talking over what we were looking for, and it just... kept going, you know? We stayed in each other's lives outside that store."

"Was he in a band too?"

"Why are you asking me all these questions about the past, Suzy?"

"Because I'm curious! I don't know very much about you yet, honestly. Enlighten me." She grins cheekily at you while you sigh dramatically.

"Fine. Yeah, he was part of a duo band, what was it called..." You know damn well what it was called, but you're acting like it takes a minute to remember on purpose. You're not going to show that you remember your time with Dan more clearly than any other time of your life. You don't remember the little things of his life, his life that _you chose_ not to step any further into and consequently stepped yourself all the way out of, and you certainly don't remember instantaneously his band was called Skyhill and the one before that was The Northern Hues, but you weren't around for that one, only the former. "Skyhill? I think that was it."

The look on Suzy's face rivals how little you expected to see Dan. She knows something- she must; her eyes are about to pop right out of her head into her bowl. You frown, deeper than you mean to.

"Suzy, what's going on?" you ask slowly.

"I know him."

There's a silence between the two of you as you stare each other down, her in flabbergasted hope and you in bewildered disbelief.

"You what?" you ask finally.

"I know this has to sound super weird, and it is, of all the people and everything- just bear with me," Suzy says. She's talking fast. You don't really think you're going to have the appetite to finish the bit that's left of your lunch. "But I do know Dan!" The fact that she has his name right certainly puts a point in her favor in all this, you must say.

"How?" you ask, crossing your arms over yourself.

"He works with us! Us being my husband and I and our friends, mostly my husband. They're the Game Grumps. Didn't... Didn't you know?" You shake your head no very deliberately. "Oh. Well... They've got a really big following, honestly. It's really special and neat."

"Honestly I didn't feel right looking him up too much over the years. As..." You sigh and roll your eyes at yourself. "As long as I knew he was okay, I didn't look into anything else. I didn't look at what he was actually doing other than being curious if he was still making music, I didn't look for his friends, I didn't do anything. I just... listened to Skyhill when I would get really lonely and sad and listened to Ninja Sex Party when I was also lonely and sad. And I didn't have to see his internet presence to do that; they're on Spotify."

"Right," she says, and she nods, but you don't miss the hints of determination and an idea on her face. "I didn't mean to imply anything."

"Nah, you're fine."

"It's just... wow, this is weird but so great! You're my friend, and Dan is also my friend, and Dan used to be your friend, and we can all be friends together!

"No we cannot," you're quick to decline.

"Whyyyy?" Suzy whines, pouting. It's startlingly effective.

"Because..." _Because I ripped out his heart and ran it over with a moving van, and why would he want to rekindle a friendship with that person?_

 _"_ (Y/N), we all knew he was going to that show last night," she informs you. You squint a little, an eyebrow quirked, and she nods. "Mmhmm. I just didn't think it was you; we invited him out for drinks and he said no, said he was going to support a friend, and that's all we knew."

"I mean that could be true. He could be friends with anyone in any of those bands," you are quick to defend, shrugging with forced casualness. You don't care about his reasons.

"But what if it was you?" Suzy presses on. She's looked progressively eager about this throughout the conversation, and you are decidedly not very happy about this. Not that you'll say so. What you will say is the truth about you and Dan, to settle this what you hope will be once and for all with her.

"I broke his heart, Suzy," you sigh. You watch her expression begin to slightly falter. "He wanted to give the world to me and I said no. I picked a different world. I moved to Chicago with my band; we'd been in touch with some label hotshot there. I broke him and left him behind." You feel terrible, for what you've confessed and for how sad Suzy looks, looking at the table. You slouch against your chair, looking off to the side, watching people outside walk by. "Dan didn't come to that show for me."

"So that's his Instagram you keep looking at?" she asks after a moment, nodding towards your phone. You nod as well. "Why? I won't judge if it's purely masochistic, if you're worried about that." The longer you hesitate, the more intently she looks at you. Fucking _Suzy_ and her goddamn ways.

"There is a distinct possibility that he may have started following mine last night," you weasel around the point, tongue in your cheek as you purposefully avoid her smile. "And I may have followed back because it seemed like the least douchebag-y thing to do."

"Seeeee?" she prods at you, drawn out and there's that damn sweetness and hope in her voice. "I'm not saying that all is forgiven or anything like that- that's definitely not anywhere close to my place- but does trying to talk to you at the show and then following you later really sound like the actions of someone who hates your guts?"

"Well not when you put it that way, no."

"Of course it's no." Before you can really start to question her, Suzy's retrieved her phone and quickly shuffled her chair over to your side of the table. "Now don't argue and make a silly face."

It's challenging to be even annoyed with Suzy, never mind mad. The picture comes out with Suzy sticking out her tongue and cross-eyed, you with a fishy, kissy face and cheeks sucked in.

"Perfect," she declares, looking ever so satisfied with herself as she sends it off to the internet. "You don't mind, do you?" A ghost of a laugh comes off your breath, and you grin lightly, shaking your head.

"The dickload of coincidences that just rained down on us notwithstanding, I'm really happy you're my friend, Suzy," you claim. The smile comes easy to you, the easiest one of the afternoon if not the whole day, and it's warm and light and finally, you're starting to feel like maybe you can face this productively instead of anxiously hiding away.

"Aww, this is what friends are for! C'mere," and she's got you in a hug before you can stop her. "Doesn't really sound like you've had that great of friends in the past. No offense."

"None taken at all. You're not wrong."

"And we're gonna fix that. But only if you're okay with it."

Your pause is lengthy enough for Suzy to pull back and look directly at you, eyes searching your face for some clue, until you smile again and nod a little.

"I mean, I do have a reputation to uphold, even to myself." You're joking, but at the same time you kind of aren't. "Running away isn't very metal of me." Suzy giggles, and when she grins, you grin; you can't help it.

"Friendship, on the other hand, is _so_ metal."

"Oh, very."

"Your rep is safe with me, Miss Big Bad Band Lady."

"Oh my god, not with that name it isn't."

"Too late."


	4. How am I the Only One Who Sees?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and the truth is I hate it.  
> how am I the only one who sees?  
> we're scraping the surface only 'cause  
> there's not much underneath.
> 
> (tell us how you really feel about (y/n)'s boyfriend, past!dan. also brooding and guest starring suzy.)

_She's friends with Suzy._

What the fuck kind of twist of fate is this nonsense? Dan's struggling, honestly, seeing her with the wife of one of his best friends- a close friend in her own right, too; Suzy is a doll, a dark-loving doll but one all the same. How does shit like this even happen? Of all people- and yet, why does it even matter so damn much?

Because he's not really ready to grapple with large amounts of her suddenly being back in his life; that's why. Or... no, that seems likely. It's one thing to see her play, surrounded by other people. In a sea of strangers where their anonymity, compared to his, is his defense if it goes awry and they can part ways and he'll slip back into the faces she doesn't know and she'll go back to... whatever it is she goes back to.

He wonders where and how she lives now.

He wonders about her far too much, all things considered. This is happening too fast. It isn't anyone's fault; it's just the fucking coincidence of it all, and he had to be that genius who went and followed her already so her cute face is all over the place now... Her feed makes him smile though, full of selfies both glorifying and nerdishly self-deprecating and her music. Dan won't admit to himself how many times he's hit play on any post with the video camera icon, just to hear her voice whether she's saying something ridiculous or singing.

Goddamn, he missed her singing.

He missed all of her.

"Fuck," Dan breathes out. _Fuck._

He goes ahead and likes the post. Not like he really has anything left to lose anyway. He might as well start getting used to the possibility that she might show up at the Grump Space one day, dragged in by Suzy. One way or another, she's going to get pulled into his life by invisible hands that either hate him or see this as some bizarre favor. Personally he's leaning towards the former. She didn't seem very happy to see him the other night. Not that she'd been _unhappy_ about it either, but it was a colder reception than he'd dared hope for.

She didn't owe him that, though. Maybe she had hurt him, maybe a lot more than just the word _hurt_ conveyed on its own, but she didn't owe him some kind happy reunion. How could they even touch that? The more he tries to wrap his head around approaching it, he knows it was never going to happen. Whether it was there or some other way of reuniting, she was never going to _not_ run away. He knows her. He knows the parts of her that run the deepest and can never change.

He knows she loved him once.

She found an excuse to run, and by this he knows she hasn't forgiven herself yet.

This shouldn't give him hope, but it does. He hates it.

"Fuck." More forcefully this time, honest frustration creeping into his voice. It's not that he wants anything from her. They've been down that road. He doubts she wants to go there again, and that's fine.

 _It's not fine_ but he pretends he doesn't hear the thought.

He has to talk to Suzy.

* * *

It's a silent pact between the two of them that they go to every show the other one plays, ongoing since before "it" happened. Before they kissed in her apartment- _her and Garrett's apartment_ , fucking hell- and kissed again in Dan's place, and again when he was supposed to be closing at Midtown and needless to say that process took much longer than protocol dictated it should have, again and again in increasingly risky places that they really shouldn't have. It wasn't something that they talked about the way they should have. It was just something they continued to find themselves simply doing, and enjoying, and it made them happy.

He makes her happy, doesn't he?

Dan wonders, as he watches her on a stage, singing backup and playing guitar like she was born for it. Beside Garrett. Beside the man with the band, who kept slowly creeping into the role of the one in charge and making decisions until the rest of them would pull him back (only for him to slide back in eventually, anyway), the man who would flaunt their relationship when it suited him and keep her interested with sudden whirlwinds of affection before he lost interest again. And she _still fucking stays_ by his side.

But Dan's by her side when Garrett isn't. Dan knows her intricacies and intimacies.

Dan has that over him, so suck it, asshole.

And yet, he doesn't, because they're still hiding. He's learning her from the inside out, and she's... He doesn't know what she's doing. What he does know is she desperately doesn't want to ruin what her band has going for them, because Starbox doesn't deserve to suffer at their relationship's hand. She cares about Starbox far more than she has ever cared about Garrett. It's just that, unfortunately, Starbox is more or less Garrett's band, and if she breaks it off with him- well. Nobody thinks that's going to go over well, as much as he can put the music first at times ( _surprisingly_ , Dan criticizes to himself) and be a decent human being.

Admittedly, that is a little unfair. Garrett has never actually done anything to slight Dan, other than happen to be dating his best friend turning lover.

Oh man, _are they lovers?_

They haven't done anything beyond making out, and that's been incredibly nice thus far. Dan is certainly not complaining about anything, but he does wonder. He can't help it. She tells him so many things about her thought processes, runs by him bits of songs and lyrics she's put together, talks about her childhood and all her favorite things that he doesn't know already, and fuck, she's been putting in the effort to learn all those things she doesn't yet know about him too. She's trying and she's caring and Dan knows so, so much that he's already in over his head. He probably has been since the beginning, since that day they were both fully engrossed in their own comic book agendas and bent for the same thing and conked their heads right into each other, an unusual feat considering their height difference. It still makes her laugh. Dan, too.

He bets she doesn't laugh like that with Garrett.

She sneaks him smiles during Starbox's set, even winks once before a grin lights up her face. There's no way for him to fight; he has to smile back.

But at the end of the show- after they've said their closing and she's blown a kiss to everyone, a cute gesture she likes to do and Dan knows from the look she sends out that it's for him, and it sounds so dumb but that's what it is- it's Dan whom she hugs tightly, but Garrett whose hand slips around hers when she's pulled back, who tugs her closer to him and claims her mouth with kisses. Dan isn't an often angry person, but something burns, when Garrett pulls this shit in front of him. She's told him that Garrett is far less affectionate in their private life than he is when there's people around, and even then it's not a regular show, more sporadic than anything.

Sometimes Dan wonders if he knows Dan likes his girl. More than likes.

But Garrett has money. His parents are well-off, and he's got a degree. He pays the rent monetarily. She pays the rent by staying. There is a part of her that cares for him. He isn't always an asshole. Creatively he really can excel, and he's good at making connections for Starbox. He knows his skills and he uses them to _their_ advantage, not solely his own as some would paint it. And sometimes he does think considerately of her and act like a boyfriend.

Sometimes isn't enough, but (Y/N) hasn't dumped his ass yet, and Dan isn't going to push her. He already has more of her than he maybe should; he won't ask for more. She'll give when she's ready. If that ever comes.

For the rest of the night, he can't get her doe eyes looking back at him, as she's tugged in the opposite direction to go see some fans and he just hopes he'll talk to her later, out of his head.

* * *

A few quick texts lets him know where Suzy is. It's funny; he doesn't think he's ever made it to the Grump space as quick as he has this time. It's not even clear to him what he's hoping to figure out here. Dan just knows he needs some answers, _something_ to stop the way his head keeps spinning when he thinks about all this.

"Suzy!" It's not a shout, but he's definitely announcing himself and his intention to speak with her, long legs taking him along quickly. She jumps slightly, nestled into a beanbag cushion, and he smiles apologetically for a second, not having meant to startle her.

"Well hi Dan," she chuckles softly, regaining composure and shifting herself around in her spot, as he picks any seat near her. Suzy raises a brow at the unusually serious look on Dan's face. "How's it goin'?"

"How much are you willing to tell me about her?"

"What?"

"Look, you know I wouldn't ask that, I'm not that guy- but... Suzy." He fixes her with a look, although when she smiles impishly (yet innocently all at once), it's hard not to break into a smile of his own. "Please. Just... I have to figure this out and you're my best shot."

"Why don't you ask her?" Suzy asks slyly. Dan groans quietly and runs a hand through his hair. _Ask_ , pfft. He can't do _that_.

"She all but ran away from me, Suze. I'm pretty sure that even if I knew where to find her, that wouldn't go well."

They stare at each other a moment again. Suzy's thinking; at least he's gotten her to that point. She looks at the floor, and Dan hopes maybe she's really considering it. It's not his proudest moment, asking someone else to tell her what she was up to, like some creep from afar, but short of taking it to a direct message and hoping she would read it and _then_ hoping she would dignify it a response, Suzy was his best shot.

"Okay," Suzy gives in, scooting in her squishy cushion a little closer, more attentively. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"Um, do?"

"Do you wanna know her again or not?"

Well, if she's going to put it that way, he supposes he doesn't have all that much of a choice. He sighs a little, but Suzy sits there smiling like a cat, and he nods.

"Fine. What is this plan of yours?"

"Well..."


	5. Beside Myself in my Own Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry your damn self is a broody mess. also suzy continues to be the sweetest. and the rest of the sharks make an appearance finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all filler no killer and i'm very sorry BUT WE'RE BRIDGING A GAP TO AN IMPORTANT CHAPTER.

If not for the startling influx of followers and new interest in Average White Shark since your debut appearance on Suzy's Instagram feed, you might have been able to pretend throughout the week that nothing had ever happened. Any hope of progress hasn't budged an inch, days in. The interaction between you and Dan is all but stagnant, only liking each other's posts and nothing more. Part of you feels certain he's in the same boat as you: at a loss as to how to approach this and do something, so you both just never speak and keep waiting for the other one to say anything or for yourself to think of something suitably clever. It allows you to think that maybe there was nothing to worry about, a blip on your radar but then you both passed on by. This would be something to look back on later and... and be sad about.

As much as the scared part of you wouldn't necessarily mind not having to acknowledge this further and deal with any crushing feelings and could take just being occasionally sad, the rest of you protests furiously whenever you so much as get in the vicinity of the idea.

You also know that, simply put, Dan is busy. So are you, but he is in a way you never really estimated before. You had no idea the scope of Let's Play channels on the internet, but you had caved in your free time in the last few days; you couldn't help it and had fallen down deep into the nerdy chasm that was Game Grumps, and by extension of Dan's presence there, whatever the fuck Ninja Sex Party could be described as. Something hilariously beautiful. Game Grumps, you learned from Suzy (who seemed delighted you were taking an interest, but to your relief did not press you about Dan), recorded often and it could extend quite a bit into the day depending on how into the games they were and if they had anything else to do. A constant however, was the outpouring of support of fans at astounding levels. Dan was, in this niche corner of the internet, _famous._

Fuck.

You aren't prepared for that. It's very humbling, and also a little awkward because of that. Good fortune didn't just rain down on him the moment you were out of his life; it did take time over this ten year space between the two of you, but Dan's gone on to do incredible things with incredible people, rightfully earned such an immense and loving following, living his dreams, and what have you done? You moved to Chicago, stayed with the man you didn't really want for the sake of your band and those high hopes every one of its members clung to, watched as said man grew more distant from you as you all tried to get settled in a brand new city and a new recording environment, _got dumped_ instead of what should have always been the other way around, got kicked out of the apartment you shared with him in consequence, tried to keep Starbox together but the shambles and shreds were too much and kept slipping through everyone's fingers, moved around the country like a nomad with a trail of fizzled out band attempts and some solos behind you and dead-end, shitty jobs. At least California has been kinder to you than most other places were, but it doesn't change anything, not really. You still haven't changed anything. It's impossible to be sure, but you're damn well convinced you aren't changing anyone's life with the music you're making, no one is laying on their bed listening to Average White Shark or any other music you've had a hand in and thinking it's going to be okay, you're just another goddamn person out there with a guitar and a voice trying to fool yourself into believing anything you do is going to make any kind of difference. That you're going to be remembered, and you're not.

This is jealousy in its most embarrassing form.

It's not that you wanted to ever find him doing the same if not worse than you are. The truth is that you've never known anyone more deserving than Dan of what he has now, and your shortcomings aside, you couldn't be happier for him nor prouder. You're just licking your wounds within the safe walls of your apartment, feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what he'd want with a scumbag like you when he could have almost literally anyone else.

And why would he? After all, you broke his heart. You're the one who made that perfect human being cry when you told him goodbye for the last time (you were crying too, but that's not the point; _you_ are not the point here).

He begged you to stay, to think of any other way to do this for Starbox but not chain yourself to Garrett for the band's sake. If the band couldn't take the two of you breaking up, it couldn't have that great a foundation in the first place. And you didn't listen.

And you will never forget that break in his voice as he held you so tightly and asked, so softly but so meaningfully, _please, please stay._

You almost unfollow him under the crushing blows to your self-worth and negative thinking. But you don't. You just keep on seeing his face pop up and feeling happy for him while simultaneously feeling sorry for yourself like the loser you are.

* * *

_> We're coming to your show!!_

The text has you taken aback, and you reread it a few times, perplexed and suddenly nervous and more stressed over what's riding on this show than you already were. It's not as if the show was ever hidden from Suzy or that you don't appreciate the support. In a matter of a few days, the two of you have quickly blown up each other's phones and become closer than you thought you'd be. You're never sure if she's sending you something morbid or if it's going to be something sweet with friendship, but you love either option.

All that aside however, you aren't so sure you love this.

_> >Uh, "we?"_

_> Me and the Grumps._

She's attached a heart-eyed cat emoji and you groan, garnering curious looks from your bandmates. Fortunately for Suzy, she's caught you on a break. Unfortunately for you, there's no escaping their confusion.

"What's up?"

You look over to your questioner- Arianna, the second guitarist- and shake your head, waving it off for now. You'll tell them in a minute; you just need more. What's there to tell them right this second? That you might have to face Dan again in front of his friends and Suzy? You can't handle a little uncomfortable reunion (again) and meeting some surprisingly famous people with him? Please.

_> >Is Dan coming?_

_> You're pretty quick to ask about him. Is there some new development I should know? ;)_

_> >IS DAN COMING SUZY_

_> Sheesh ok yes! Yes, he is. Dan is included._

You can feel your bandmates staring at you as you stare at the phone, unsure of what to say. The second time in a week you're going to have Dan Avidan in that audience, watching you play and listening to your voice and- and once again, this isn't all about you! You have a band behind you, and you're making this all about one person seeing you, ignoring the entire rest of the crowd and the rest of the product on that stage beside you, working together. You're a team; they're not there to prop you up. You'd do well to remember that.

"So, uh... hey guys," you start, rubbing the back of your neck as you look up and around. Arianna (small and tan, but a force to be reckoned with), Zack (the bassist, with his fluffy beard and tattooed arms that make him appear with his stature much more fearsome than he really is), and Ben (the drummer, another surprising force behind his skin and bones frame, especially once he got behind that drum kit) each had their eyes honed in on you, expectantly. You clear your throat a little. "Any of you ever heard of the Game Grumps?"

" _Yes_ ," Arianna answers quickly, more adamant than you'd expected, and you almost laugh as you look at her then. "And I'm super jealous you're friends with Arin's wife."

"I haven't known her long," you mutter, as if you need some defense.

"Oookay, well at least Ari knows what's going on," remarks Ben dryly, but he's smiling a little in his sarcastic (and sometimes assholeish) way, and you know he doesn't mean anything negative or impatiently. "Why?"

"Well, apparently they're coming tonight."

You're not sure if Arianna's going to faint, but she does have to sit down.

"That picture with that friend of yours is what's gotten us the new followers and shit so quickly here, right?" asks Zack, nodding gently towards you, a nudge towards the apps your phone holds. "So this is good- right?"

"They've got like, upwards of three million subscribers on Youtube," Arianna is quick to add.

"Damn." Ben seems slightly impressed. You're quite content to hide how embroiled you already are in the fray and how much you already know from Suzy. "If we could get them to mention us anywhere, we'd be a hit."

"We have to impress them."

"No, guys, that's not- that's not necessary," you attempt to dissuade. "Not just for them."

"It's not like they're record execs or something," Zack agrees, and you're grateful for the support.

"Exactly, and we try to outdo the last show every time we play, right?" you go on, grinning. Ben and Arianna shrug, but they don't disagree. You feel better until your phone buzzes in your hand again.

_> Is that ok? This silence is not very convincing. If you really don't want him or us there, we don't have to come. I thought it would be a cool way for the rest of the guys to meet you. You know, come to your natural habitat instead of you coming to ours where I already know you won't be very comfortable._

You can't help smiling as you read Suzy's words. It's incredibly challenging to be upset with her making such a leap in their plans- even though she really does not need to ask you beforehand, and it's selfish, not to mention a dick move to ask her to get your approval first, honestly. If they want to come to the show- if fucking _anyone_ wants to come to the show no matter how connected or not they are to anyone in the band- they can do that. You can't stop them, and how can you stop Suzy and the Grumps?

There's also the fact that Dan has to know this, because Suzy wouldn't be the person to completely hide the true destination of an outing from him, especially with the knowledge she holds. Dan has to know he's agreeing to see you perform again. _Dan wants to see you again._

_> >Sorry! Silence not intended. I'd love to meet everyone, really. It's gonna be fun!_

_> Are you sure?_

_> >For someone who just sprung this on me out of the blue, you're awfully concerned about how sure I am about this now. Yes I'm sure. I can do this._

_> Yeah! You can do this! <3 I'll see you later then!_

Although the return to practice is uneventful, there's a new energy in the sound waves. Phrases of music are fine-tuned and becoming perfected, sometimes interpreted differently by the players and coming out with a surprise in notes you've heard dozens of times now. It's downright exciting. Even though it really has nothing to do with you yourself, you're a little pleased anyway that you've unintentionally brought such a potential audience to the band. _If_ the Grumps like you and give you even the slightest mention in a post or anything. Suzy will, you know already.

Well shit, maybe you aren't really such a loser after all.


	6. I'll Find a Way to Make it What You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll wait until you're good and sure and ready,  
> not even going to try and change your mind.
> 
> (a show, a meeting, and a paradox of distance.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello folks have this helllllla long chapter in which things are said.

_Do you want something to happen, or do you not?_

You're faced with the dilemma while you're wasting precious time. You should have been out the door five minutes ago, but you're still in your bedroom, clothes strewn across the bed, while you're sitting on the floor clutching the fabric of an old, grey t-shirt, and goddamnit, you're crying _again._ You're getting awfully sick of that, but it keeps happening.

This was Dan's shirt. You stole it from him, and he must have known where it went but he let you, wordlessly. And so it became yours, a Rush shirt all your own. In all honesty, you had forgotten all about it, until a rampage of dissatisfaction tore you through your closet and you found it, towards the back with the things you kept out of sight for their own preservation. If you didn't wear them much, there was less risk posed to them. Holding it and looking back on everything, you felt... dirty, almost. You didn't deserve this piece of him, but it's not as if you could have given it back to him when you had the chance. You know you wouldn't have been able to, but you didn't really know why. Not exactly, though in the back of your mind and in the pit of your gut you had some idea.

Was it too much to wear it tonight?

You keep biting your lip as you toss the thought back and forth, looking at the graphic, rubbing your thumbs over the soft material. It probably doesn't fit you very well. You certainly hadn't ballooned but you had gained a little weight in ten years, but Dan had always been a bit of a stick.

It doesn't really fit the frontwoman persona you usually opted for, but did they have to be a "usual" to that, really? You could dress however the hell you wanted to, and it didn't matter so long as you gave everything you had to the music.

And well... if you want to send Dan a message, it seems like a pretty good way to do it.

Do you, though? Is that what you want? Or do you want to take baby steps and just focus on being okay with him being there through a whole show dedicated to Average White Shark and to you, not just your blip of an appearance at a competition? And in front of Suzy and everyone that you don't yet know; it is very intimidating, _and yet_ , you can't stop thinking.

That "five minutes ago" turns to ten before you get up off the floor and keep moving, but you've made a decision and you're sticking to it, for better or worse.

* * *

There's a lot more people there than any of you had expected. You wonder if your connection to Suzy had anything to do with it; garnering interest off someone else's back feels like a shitty thing to do, but it's not something you intended to do. It's not at all on purpose, so it's not _as_ shitty then, at least.

Feeling like shit about potential fans when you should be happy; what a great way to start the show.

The four of you are hams; the fanbase you have already learned this early on. In the darkness, before the lights are fully on the stage, a silhouette of Zack picks up his bass and, in a nod to "Jaws," begins playing the infamous notes. You, Ben, and Arianna get to your spots and get your instruments and situated; you're beaming in the dark as those who know what's going on chant the "dun dun dun dun!" along with Zack's playing.

The lights burst on, and the four of you look unimpressed, hands held out in a flat but shaking universal 'it's okay' motion, and collectively together go, "Ehhh."

Some laugh. Some start cheering. You all start grinning like the little shits you are and launch into the opening number. That and the shock of light on you so abruptly is enough to keep you from scanning the crowd for Suzy and Dan, at least for now.

"I didn't know what I was looking for, and come to think I wasn't looking at all. I'm not the same girl, not since you came in. I'm gonna get you if it takes me all night, I'm gonna get you if it takes me all night long..."

* * *

Suzy nudges Dan from their spot in the crowd, smirking like a devil and she just might be one. Somehow he isn't as sure of himself as she is. Fuck, he isn't sure of anything right now, but he knows that shirt was his. He knows Suzy told (Y/N) they would be there, and she chose that shirt, and fuck everything; he was not at all a man with a plan.

Average White Shark's introduction is ridiculous and corny, and he laughs stupidly hard.

"Oh my god, it's like when you laugh too hard at somebody's jokes because you want them to like you," Arin teases within their little circle, able to just hear one another over the speakers booming their instrumentals.

Suzy smacks his shoulder to shut him up, but Dan's already felt the self-consciousness sneak in and strike with its claws in firm.

"Dan likes who?" Ross asks belatedly.

"I think he likes the singer; look at her shirt." Barry jumps in.

"Guys!" Suzy's single word and firm look snaps them back to order. Dan smiles slightly towards her, a silent thank you. Suzy is the only one who knows their situation, and he prefers for now to keep it that way. He would rather they cluelessly tease him about a pretty, talented musician wearing a Rush shirt they don't know he knows than have them tease him about a pretty, talented musician wearing a Rush shirt that he really does have a bit of a crush on.

Because fuck it: he does, he fucking knows he does and there's really no point in trying to reason it away. Whether it's on the memory of her or on her newfound presence in pictures and a sporadically active Youtube channel where she'd post covers and jam sessions and any little thing she felt like doing. Maybe both. He likes all of it so fucking much.

It's really fucking stupid, but he feels like the chorus's claim is meant for him. That she's going to get him, if it takes her all night long.

"She's gonna get you, Dan," Arin teases again. Dan doesn't dignify it with a response, just a roll of his eyes and shake of his head. Suzy's got the job of reining her husband in, thanks very much.

* * *

It's easier than you thought it would be to keep your mind on the music. Maybe it's having an actual set to play, or how many more people are here now than at the battle, or something else entirely perhaps, but you are _there_. The whole band is throwing themselves into it. The songs are coming out absolutely perfect. The energy exchange between band and crowd is honestly amazing, and you can only pray for this experience to come again.

You see him though- well, you see Suzy first, and she waves very excitedly when you two lock eyes. It's inevitable from there that even if just out of your focused gaze, you see him. A leather jacket- you wonder who can even stand to wear a leather jacket at a show, but then Ben is wearing one, and you're all wearing jeans except for Arianna who's wearing tights so it still counts in a way; you stand corrected, you suppose. Style is as style does in any situation.

You are desperately glad you can't actually see him in that jacket fully, because _goddamn_ if you could, you'd lose it.

You are not so desperately glad that, conveniently, this is the part of the set where it slows down. Where the song gets emotional for a minute.

Where the song, although the lyrics and everything elsewere written before you had any inkling whatsoever of Dan's presence so near your life, still feels awfully close to some of the things you want to say to him.

The song gives Arianna a chance to shine on a keyboard, often neglected by your songs but occasionally put to outstanding use.

"I guess this is as good a time as any, threatening to kick me out the house. Like waiting on a heart attack, I hate it 'cause I can't hit back. Find a way to make it what you want," you sing, your eyes closed and the room oddly hushed to you. "I'll find a way to make it what you want." This is a moment; your audience is so in tune with the band, and if there's anything that defines magic, this has got to be it.

"I'll wait until you're good and sure and ready, not even gonna try and change your mind..."

You smile wide as Arianna's notes begin to sweep in, the keyboard on a classic piano setting and beautifully accompanying the feelings you're trying to convey. Ben and Zack keep their parts soft- a feat for them; you remember laughing and teasing them for not being sensitive enough about it- and you feel yourself sway only just so, a little side to side. Arianna's voice harmonizes with yours on cue.

"Give me time and give me strength. Give me all that you can take. Give me time and give me soul. Exercise your self control," you sing out. For just a second you've forgotten and make a mistake; you open your eyes- they immediately seek out his hair, and you feel your chest tense a little, and you swallow, and all at once your body is a paradox of warm and cold.

It's like he's the only person in the fucking room. You kind of want to crawl into a hole. You also kind of want to make damn sure he hears you.

"Take only what you think you need, unannounced and suddenly, make it seem you're making way. Give me more than I can take."

* * *

(Y/N)'s singing right to him, and he's not sure if he either wants to die or if he wants to climb up on the stage and kiss her.

He's keenly aware of the lie he told her just shy of a week ago, that seeing her had been a surprise. Bullshit. He just hadn't wanted to give her that. Dan has some pride. He's not just going to let her know completely that, once he got wind she was around, he looked for her. He's not a lovesick puppy waiting for her to open her arms to him again.

But fuck, something does stir in him when she looks at him like that and sings. She has such control over the room right now; all four of them do. They're working together beautifully, and now the bass and drums sweep in on a crescendo with the women, but (Y/N)- good god, (Y/N)'s shining up there. Her voice is haunting over the audience, and they're with her. Even Arin isn't ruining it. Dan has seen this before, also from the onstage point of view. It's incredible, and he's so damn proud of her. He's so happy in spite of everything that she's experiencing this.

He wants this so much and he's scared to fucking death of it. It hits him when she and the other young woman start to repeat those lines again.

_I'll find a way to make it what you want._

It lingers even as the song fades out and the show moves on, and Dan knows it will stay there long after.

Fuck his life.

* * *

 It seems all too soon when the last song is upon you. Arianna is back at the keyboard while your fingers pick along at guitar chords. The end is always bittersweet, but it's a miracle at the same time. After all, if it has to end, it ends with something _good_ , the last shot to make sure people remember what they saw.

"When the lights went down and the room cleared out, I could see... I could see, standing still and straight up, right in front of me," you sing, not even trying to hold the slow roll in your hips as you keep yourself close to the microphone and have no need to look at your fingers, knowing their notes instinctively by now.

"Singing holy water, holy water, straight and narrow... I love you 'cause you shoot straight as an arrow... Now you put some piece together in the palm of your hands. Take me out of there; we'll see how well I stand. Nothing starts to matter, I can feel it when you take me out of there and it all goes to hell."

Fuck, this feels like it's about Dan again. It's only just occurred to you, and you're very torn if it's a blush on your cheeks or if you're just too damn hot under those lights by now. You shift gears and try your hardest to put everything you've got left in that goal of going out with the best song you can give. You are _not_ about to let the trio behind you down at the very end because you can't keep your feelings in check.

"You, you should be happy, 'cause you've got people, people that love you baby! You do, you do."

You look down and check yourself again, eyeing your fingers skipping over taut strings. There's a small flurry of cheering in the brief interlude; you grin and shake your head. Not time for that yet, but at least they're liking it.

"When the night gets low, in that room it's only you." Your voice amps up in the power behind it, a boost from your diaphragm that you've demonstrated plenty by now but it's all feeling and anything you've got left now. It's different than the others. This is finale power. "Standing still and straight up, right in front of me, singing holy water, holy water, straight and narrow. I love you 'cause you shoot straight as an arrow. Now I'm thinking if you left, it wouldn't be half bad. Just a couple drinks so I can handle it. Nothing starts to matter; I can feel it when, and I'm thinking if you left it wouldn't be half bad."

"You, you should be happy, 'cause you've got people, people that love you, baby, that love you baby!" It's you, Arianna, and Zack who sing together now, but there's far more voices. It's certainly not everyone, but there's enough of a base in that crowd who's followed your little old came-from-nothing band that they're shout-singing the chorus back to you. You could absolutely cry right then and there. Exchanging looks with Zack and Arianna, they look equally amazed and touched with you.

"You, you should be happy, baby, happy, baby! You've got people, people that love you baby, baby, baby!"

The three of you return to the holy water lines, repetitive, but instrumental work shines behind them in these moments. God, they sing that right along with you too. Even if nothing does happen with Dan tonight, you're still going home over the moon.

Towards the end, you remind yourself of your duties as the frontwoman.

"Once again ladies and gentleman we are Average White Shark," you say clearly and loud enough that the microphone picks you up well over the best efforts of the band. "Moments like this one are exactly what makes each one of us up here do what we do; you are absolutely amazing, and you've made this show _so_ great for us, thank you!"

The song finishes out dedicated to the instruments, and when that's finally passed, there's cheering and even though it's not at all a big space, it feels like _so much more_ and again, you aren't sure if you're going to make it without crying.  Arianna actually is crying, you notice, when you're able to get closer to her after you've all waved sufficiently goodbye and the lights are out and you all sneak away.

" _They sang it back to us_ ," she sniffles, laughing in remaining shock.

"Did your Grumps do that?" Ben asks from behind you.

"No, you know, I really don't think so," you reply quickly, and you're very firm in this. "These people knew the fucking song; they didn't just show up on a whim or curiosity because their internet fandom mentioned us. Grumps didn't do that. _We_ did."

"Fuck yes we did," Zack agrees, a proud band papa if there ever was one. He's almost as old as you are, the 32 to your 35. Arianna and Ben are the babies in their 20s.

"What do you guys think then?" Ben asks. "Should we go get drinks or something? This is great! We _did_ something tonight, man!"

"Oh, um..." Well, shit. Ben's right, but which friends do you pick? Suzy didn't say that you have to go with them anywhere, but you did tell security that the group is allowed to come around back if they try. Everyone could merge together into one big group, you suppose- but that's imposing on both parties, and you don't want to do that. "I'm actually-"

"Oh my god," Arianna blunders out in almost one word together, interrupting you as you all turn a corner towards the precious space you can all take a minute to laze around on a few couches and make sure you're not really dead after that show. You look at her first, as she's tugging quickly and repeatedly and hard on your shirt.

Suzy's blinding grin is what you see first.

"That was _super good_!" she gushes, and before you know it she's over to you and got you in a hug and you're beaming all over again.

"It felt super good," you have to agree, hugging her back. Arianna squeaks quietly behind you. "She's one of their lovelies," you inform Suzy quietly, trying not to embarrass the wee lamb. "And in awe of you, a bit."

You almost laugh as the two of you part and you realize how awkwardly all the men are standing around.

"So this is Suzy," you introduce, and she smiles and waves, "and her Grumps. And these are my fellow sharks: Zack-"

"Sup."

"-Ben-"

"Yo."

For fuck's sake, you didn't ask anyone to say anything. So many interruptions here, shit.

"-And Arianna."

She squeaks a little again and you shake your head slightly, grinning in spite of her.

"Well come on, get up here," encourages Suzy, and she waves Arianna over, whom you're pretty sure really is about to faint this time. You grab her hand and bring her up with you to properly meet the Grumps, just to make sure she gets there and doesn't die in the few steps along the way.

"We've got Arin-"

"Okay first of all, we're not _her_ Grumps. Ross is Holly's Grump, Dan wants to be your Grump-"

"What?" he asks in vaguely frustrated incredulity from his side, while you're blushing and hope to god nobody notices.

"And Barry is, I don't know, Barry's a free bitch."

That gets a laugh out of you and Ben. Arianna's still starry-eyed and you can't really tell what Zack's mouth is doing under that beard.

" _You're_ my Grump, though," Suzy says, and you can't help but smile at the way Arin seems to melt just a little bit under Suzy's look.

"Yis."

"And Ross, Barry, and I believe you and Dan have already met-"

" _What_?" crows Arin, snapping out of the spell Suzy so briefly put him under.

"You said you only know Suzy, wow, holding out on us," Ben teases you."

"You know Dan too!?" Arianna manages to ask, looking at you with owlishly rounded eyes. Her gaze by chance happens to fall on your shirt, and when it didn't seem possible, her eyes get wider. "Is that why you picked a Rush shirt?" she squeaks out excitedly, trying to put pieces together that she knows nothing about but desperately wishes she did.

If you weren't embarrassed yet, you certainly are now.

"Yeah, actually, wasn't that _mine_ once?" Dan chimes in, smirking at you. Oh, the little shit.

"What!?"

"Ari," you groan warningly, looking back over to her. Something seems to click, and she clears her throat softly, looking down.

"Anyway..." She glances up shyly towards Suzy. You know she's in good hands, as Suzy immediately takes her under her proverbial wing (in this case, arm) and takes her over a bit to talk to Arin. This leaves Ben and Zack to mingle with Ross and Barry... and you with Dan.

Dan and you.

Great.

You smile at each other, small ones, and stand awkwardly near each other like a pair of clueless teenagers putting far too much pressure on themselves to be cool for the other. In some ways, you really were. Just both of you in your thirties and not the teens, an acceptable age for this embarrassing mess.

"Um..." You start lamely, regretting it instantly, but at least you've made a sound. It doesn't count as speaking to him yet, but it's better than silence. "Do you want to go outside or something?"

"Yeah, alright," he agrees with a nod, following you as you lead the way quietly to the venue's back exit.

"I seem to keep meeting you in parking lots," he notes, and you laugh. Dan grins at the sound.

"Not intentional, I can assure you," you reply easily. It's much cooler outside than it was in, though the temperature had still gone down a bit in the distance between the stage and the backstage lounge.

"You're all a lot better than just average sharks, I hope you know," Dan says, as you lean against a car- conveniently yours, leaving no room to possibly offend anyone- and look at him. "That was impressive, I have to say."

"Can we quote that on promo posters? 'That was impressive,' Danny Sexbang, NSP," you joke with a grin. This time he laughs, that machine gun 'ha' of his. There's a warmth in your chest, watching him. It should maybe concern you, but for right now, it doesn't.

"I mean, if you want," he replies. "It's a lot shorter than Dan Avidan, longtime fan of (Y/N)'s work and some asshole who plays videogames and has a band."

"Sorry if that's the look you're going for, but definitely not an asshole," you correct. He feigns some dramatic disappointment to which you giggle, and he lapses back into a grin. "Dork, on the other hand..."

" _Oh,_ well then," and he's being dramatic again, throwing up his hands in defeat. "I just can't win with you!"

You're giggling in spite of it all, though you tried to keep it in check, and then he's giggling with you, both of you historically terrible at not laughing when those around you are doing so, and that's just how it is, for one long moment. Just giggling at each other, unable to stop, and it feels good. it feels the way it's supposed to, you and Dan, easy and lighthearted and genuine.

All at once, both of you start to calm down. You're still leaning against your car while Dan's not quite in front of you, but he has come closer. You aren't certain when it happened.

"But you could win, if you want to," you tell him softly, after a bit of silence, looking at his face. It doesn't feel as though you need to explain your meaning. Dan blinks slowly at you, while you feel your innards tying themselves up in knots and swallow gently.

"Yeah?" he questions, arching a brow, stepping a little closer to you.

"Yeah." For a moment you just look at him, marveling at him in the harsh yellow cast of the parking lot light. He's grown so well into himself. It's no wonder to you at all that he's got so many comments on every Instagram post trying to flirt with him. He _should_ have all those comments. He's a remarkable, handsome man, that Dan.

"Danny," you say softly, and he steps closer again. You could touch him, if you want to- and you do want to, but you restrain yourself from it just for now. You want to wait and see. He smiles at you, when you call his name.

"I missed you so fucking much," he finally admits to you, almost breathed out on a sigh, like he didn't want to own up to it, a little disbelieving laugh carried out on its tail. He grins, self-deprecating, but you just smile. You could smile for the rest of your life if it would only stay like this. "I thought about finding you, but I just... every time I was going to try, I chickened out."

"I was the same," you are quick to assure. "I just... I kept this image, in my mind, of how I hoped you were doing, and I was too scared to pop that bubble I kept you in..." You pause and look away, shaking your head a little. Now it's your turn to be self-deprecating. "That sounds dumb."

"No, no, it doesn't," he refutes, shaking his head and peering down at you. "I kind of did the same thing... So, I mean, if it is dumb, then hey, we're both dummies." He means it to make you smile, and it does, but now that you've broached the subject, the embarrassment and shame of what you did has already started to creep in. It's not the smile he was hoping for.

"I am _so_ , so sorry, Danny, for everything I did," you murmur. You swallow hard as you feel the threat of crying come onto you again, but you keep it at bay. "I've been wanting to say that every day for ten years." There's a blip of quiet, and Dan shrugs a little. You wonder if he isn't certain what to say to that, maybe.

"Well- like I said the other night, I'm glad to see you're alright," he claims. It's not a clear statement of forgiveness (not that you really thought he'd give you one so quickly, but it would have eased your mind) and, though you don't mean to, you end up looking down, away from him. "So don't... don't worry about it, okay?" His hand tilts your chin back up and he smiles down at you.

 _Don't worry about it,_ as he tries to convince himself of the same thing. As you're so fucking close to him, and everything could be forgotten and rectified right there. If he wants to, he can have you. He knows this. _You_ know this.

"A-and I wanted to tell you- god, Danny, I'm so fucking proud of you," you attempt to continue, your words shaking and you kick yourself mentally for that. "I hope you know that; I mean it so much-"

When you're cut off, it's by his lips hitting yours. Suddenly you are very relieved for the car behind you, because your knees go weak almost instantaneously and your hands reach up to hold onto his jacket. Everything you've wanted for ten years comes to the surface for this kiss, and it all centers on him. _Danny._

But he isn't holding you back, and there's a funny alertness in his gut that feels like something isn't completely right here. Even while your lips mold against his perfectly, and your body feels perfect as you hold onto him, and he bits your lip gently- something is _off_ , and he's trying, and the more he has to try the more you're aware something is bothering him, so the more _you_ try, and this is just... not working.

Dan pulls away first.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, and he looks truly sad for a moment. It physically hurts to see that look. You'd hoped to never see it again, but here you are- very unexpectedly, to boot. "I just-"

"Danny?" you question quietly, not meaning to interrupt him, just coming out of you, as your eyes- god, he hates himself right now; your eyes look like he's just crushed your soul.

"I can't do this. I can't do this yet."

"Danny, please- let's talk then. Let's figure this out."

Quiet wedges itself between you two. You're searching his face, and he's looking away, one hand running through his hair while you desperately wish that was your hand. That he was still yours.

"I want to, (Y/N). I do," he tells you, and you believe him. He struggles with whatever's left on his tongue to say. You all but hold your breath, waiting for it. "But I don't think I trust you."

You don't think you've ever felt such hurt from one sentence, even considering all the times you've had a 'we're breaking up' conversation. Dan's got your heart in a vice grip. It's possible you may even throw up, and you're praying it doesn't come to that.

"What?" you ask quietly, almost unable to find your voice.

"I know," he groans, frustrated. "I'm not doing it on purpose."

"We can figure this out, Dan," you encourage once again, reaching out to him, touching his hand. "We can to this right this time. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you did, once," he says, almost bluntly, as he brings his eyes towards you. There's a part of him that regrets his choice of words, but a whole other part of him feels that it needs to be said. He does not hold your hand in return.

Never have you felt so far away from any one person, especially Dan. There's a gaping hole where your heart should be now- but he's still telling the truth: he's not doing this on purpose. The only reason he has to say so, is because _you did that._ You did leave him once, chose a band's future over his love for you. It makes complete sense; how could he trust you, when that's how you left things, the last time he was ever with you? How could his body not react that way, when he has that crushing blow of a memory to reckon with? You have nothing but trust in him, reconciling all this time with how wrong you were and right he was. But Dan- you left him broken and reeling.

And now you are broken in kind, the utmost of what you deserve.

"Danny, I'm sorry," you outright whimper. Your composure is flimsy at best.

"I know you are-" Oh, shit. He winces inwardly and reaches out to brush some hair out of your face, your face firmly tilted downward and he can hear you shakily trying not to cry. It's not as if he hasn't cried over you before, and maybe you've cried over him as well, but this is different; this is him seeing in person that he's made you cry. It's not a wholly unexpected reaction, he supposes, but he hadn't thought of it. Not that he'd thought _any_ of that out. It was just an explanation he needed to say. "Hey, come on- don't cry..."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," you blubber out in tears, as he holds you to him and rubs your back.

"I know," he murmurs by your ear, just holding you through this. "I know. I didn't mean to hurt you like that... I just need you to understand this for me, please. I need to move slowly with this... It doesn't mean I spent the last ten years planning revenge or something."

Okay, revenge was not the thing to say; you shake a little harder against him, and he rocks you slightly, a little panicked that he brought you both here. _Great._

"Shh, shh," he soothes. He kisses the side of your head. It's hidden to him, but you do manage a smile. "Let's look at it another way, okay?"

"Okay," you whimper into him, a nod coming out as a nuzzle. He smiles down at you, unable to help it.

"We've had so much time to change; we get to learn about each other all over again," he enthuses. You smile a little wider at the optimism in his voice. "I know we've waited a long time, but this could be fun, right? We could... We could go on a real date for the first time! Yeah!"

You don't want to, but you're giggling in there over the elongated vowels of 'yeah', the way he does.

"What?" he asks, grinning as he pushes himself only slightly away from you, enough to make yourself visible.

"You did that thing, how you say yeah," you murmur, shrugging a little.

"Yeeeaaah," he drawls out, just to make cheer you up more, and it works. "Better?" he asks softly of you. He hasn't quite let go of you yet.

"Better," you reply with a nod and wipe carefully around your eyes. Thanks to high heaven for waterproof-and-telling-the-truth eyeliner, for goodness sake. That would have been a nightmare. "So... slow, then."

"Mmhmm," he hums, still peering at you. This is when he lets go, and while you wish he hadn't, it doesn't feel too cold without his arms. You mull it over a little, and honestly, it's more than fair that he'll give you a chance at all. You smile, finally one up to regular standards, and nod.

"I'm gonna do things right this time, I promise," you swear. "You'll see."

"You sound pretty sure of yourself," Dan observes, smirking slightly with a raised brow

"Oh I am," you respond, smirking right back. "Prepare to be wooed. Slowly." It's silly, but it makes him laugh anyway.

"Hey, you wore the wrong shirt for this," he says, calming enough to say so.

"I beg your pardon, I wore this for you," you confess without shame, looking down at it.

"Aww." He almost forgets he's trying to tell a bad joke. "But the thing is, we're taking it slow. We're not in a rush."

He's giggling before you are, but in a matter of seconds, you're back where you started, laughing because the other one is and not sure how to stop.

You remember one of the lines you belted out earlier that night, and it echoes in your mind as, eventually, the two of you calm and decide to head back inside and see what everyone else wants to do.

_I'll find a way to make it what you want._

You swear up and down you will.


	7. *You Were There in Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could hardly whisper,  
> I could barely sing a note.  
> you were there in spirit, telling me,  
> "I told you so, I told you so."
> 
> ( dannyboy isn't so keen on that going slow thing by the end of the night, nope, no sir. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh hi everyone this chapter rated m for masturbation

_Fuck._

Barry doesn't ask what's bugging him, so either he's done a decent enough job at keeping it together or Barry knows better. Either one is possible.

He can't get her smile out of his head.

She laughed at every stupid joke Arin made, and she wasn't faking. Her humor is right up their alley, both a blessing and a burden now. Suzy's clearly attached herself to (Y/N)'s hip, Ross and Barry seem to like her well enough, and Arin- god, Dan _knows_ Arin likes her because she thought he was hilarious.

She'll be around. They all like her now.

Her smile is going to be around in _his_ spaces and going to fuck with his head even more.

He's pacing his bedroom, and it just makes him more irritated, honestly. What is he, seventeen? They've been down this road, and he doesn't regret what he told her. It was what felt right to him at the time, and if he would stop for a minute and think on it, it still would. He wants to believe her- and he does.

When the fuck did he start acting with pride, anyway? When did that come into the mix?

That's what makes this whole thing so confusing for him. What is it he's after, if he already believes her? Maybe it really is the better option, taking things slow, some kind of wise moment of conscience trying to get them to acknowledge how much time really does change people and not to throw themselves into this full of blind hope.

 _But she's still her._ He can fucking tell. He knows. He knows in his heart and that's the sappiest bullshit he's ever heard but it's _true_ and it's stupid and... oh, hell.

"Damnit," he breathes out as his legs sink him down onto his bed, and he finally slips his arms out of his jacket. He sets it beside him and just stares aimlessly, sorting and resorting his thoughts. More than once his eyes shift over towards the pocket he knows his phone is in, where he has her number now.

He sees her when he closes his eyes momentarily, after he'd talked her down from crying and she made her vow to "do things right this time." So confident and hopeful and beautiful- and she _was_ , he had always thought so. She's aged with him into their thirties, but that hasn't changed.

He holds off for a while, or well, it feels like a while. Dan isn't sure how long it actually is before he's relinquishing day clothes to an old t-shirt and shorts for bed and fishing his phone out of the jacket pocket turns into typing out a text.

_> Hey lady, when do you want to do that first real date?_

There is no hesitation between hitting the question mark and hitting send. He won't let himself, because if he does, he knows he'll chicken out. As if he's not a 38-year-old man trying to take things slow and ask out a woman who used to know nearly everything about him, and this should be easy, but it just isn't.

It's funny, how the sayings always state things come easier with age, but they really don't. Not much of anything does.

His phone's screen is lit up on his bed when he comes back from brushing his teeth. Thrown in there before he walks back in is a sort-of apology to Barry for being weird on the way back home. He's mildly embarrassed by how quickly he scoops up the phone once he recognizes its light.

_> >Hmm well when are you offering?_

His eyes roll upward as he huffs quietly. She would turn this back to him- but that's fair, he figures. This is his fault. If his instincts hadn't been so conflicted and freaked out when they were kissing, maybe she'd be at his side right now. Maybe they'd have kissed a lot more than that. Maybe-

Shit. He swallows hard and stops himself from thinking further than there.

Is Monday too soon? It's Saturday night now, and while he definitely wants to see her again, taking it slow was his condition and he doesn't want to seem desperate. It's unusual and not something he rarely feels, but there's part of him that thinks it could be kind of nice to make her desperate for a change.

He swallows again and drops onto the bed, the _whump_ of impact enough to distract him for a second and ground him again. Monday is fine. It may be a little soon but he's just going to go with it.

_> Monday night?_

Fuck, the eagerness that swells in his middle was unexpected. She hasn't even said anything; he's just impatiently waiting for a response and trying to keep his mind from reeling over the edge with him in tow, like what they could do- oh fuck, he has to plan something. He hasn't been on a date in a long while. This is vaguely new territory to him again. What does she like? What's his endgame? What does he tell her to wear- _fuck_ that's not a thing he tells her, she wears whatever she wants, but he should give her an inkling if it's nice or if it's laidback and easy breezy- does anyone even say easy breezy anymore?

_> >Pick me up at 6?_

Oh fuck, she's into it. He's not sure if he feels better or not about this.

_> >Or I mean I can meet you, whatever. Or not 6. Sorry for jumping the gun._

Immediately covering her ass, like maybe she's reverted to awkward teenage-isms as well. The possibility makes Dan smile.

_> You'll have to send me your address but yeah, we can do that. 6 on Monday. Be there or be square._

_> >Be at my own home waiting on you or be square? Really??_

_> Just be ready ok sheeeeesh._

_> >:D I'll be ready._

What is he supposed to say now? He stares at the screen and bites his lip, eyebrows furrowing as he hashes over his options, and he wants to say something. Anything. He just wants to keep talking to her rather than be left to his lonesome and his thoughts.

_> >Going to sleep now though. Adrenaline has definitely worn off and once I hit this bed I'll be out. I don't want to ignore you by accident._

A quiet whine slips up and out of his throat as he reads her words. He doesn't have a choice then; she's going to electronically leave him by himself anyway. He gets it though, one hundred percent, and he can't blame her but... but goddamnit, _right now?_ Could she wait until he fell asleep too? Could he just be allowed that kindness?

_> Oh I can't blame you. Sweet dreams!_

Is that too... something, too nice? Frankly he's just happy he caught himself before he could send when it still said 'goodnight babe.' That was too much. _That_ he wouldn't allow just yet.

_> >Aw you too. Goodnight Danny_

How is it even somehow different when she calls him Danny? It's not like nobody else does it. It happens plenty, and maybe it's just a culmination of everything he's already been trying to keep at bay in his head and the way he's halfway imagining a sleepy smile on her end as she typed her words and sent them and the way he can read her texts in her voice, maybe it's something else altogether; fuck if he truly knows, but it gives him a fuzzy feeling and he smiles in spite of himself.

" _Fuck,_ " he grumps as he rejects his phone's company suddenly and puts it on the nightstand where it always goes, rolls quickly onto his side beneath the sheet and tries so damn hard to just drain and go to sleep.

It feels like hours but it's probably only minutes until he's on his back, a dramatic snarl of frustration disturbing the room's quiet as he throws the sheet off of him and thrusts his hand into his shorts. He's already half-hard; it won't take him long, with how stubbornly his mind keeps clinging to anything to do with (Y/N).

His fingers curl around Excalibur- he can see her laughing when he tells her; she'll definitely tease him, but she may just go with it. God she's beautiful when she laughs, when a full grin stretches across her face and the mirthful sound- he keens a whine as his cock twitches in his hand and begins to grow and thicken.

That shirt- _his shirt_ \- held her curves so well tonight. She still has his shirt after all this time. The printed graphic on it was a little stretched over her chest. She'd always had wonderful breasts, just the right fullness. He'd always been able to cup them and keep his thumbs where they could tease her nipples almost effortlessly, and good god she'd react. What a time to be a boob man.

Gently his hips began to rock themselves into things, slight while he worked himself up further. One hand nestled in his hair, poised to pull and the other released him briefly, coming up and he licked his palm. The slickness urged him along as he kept the mix of memories and guesses of now going. It's a mess of images just floating together. It doesn't need to make sense; it just needs to get him off. Her boobs, her voice moaning his name as well as he can imagine it, her face if he was doing this to her, and at the same time he's pulling his own hair and his fingers brush over his frenulum and he groans, feet planted against the bed as his hips start to get more into the mix. The flush across his cheeks comes from both his needy arousal and his embarrassment that he's been brought here after what's honestly so little, a night hanging out with her _with his friends_ and an awkwardly blundered kiss. All he's got are pieces life keeps teasing him with and it's still enough with his reminiscing to get him so worked up for her.

Oh well, he tried.

Barry may have heard the moan that stirs out of Dan when he pushes himself over that peak and his hard, warm length twitches and his hips thrust with a frenzied urgency. His load shoots mostly upward to his chest but his fingers aren't unscathed. The strength in him momentarily crumbles and he lays there, listening to the sound of his own quiet breathing.

He waits an indeterminable length but he knows it's long enough, until he makes himself get up and get himself to the bathroom and clean himself up. A tissue would do, but the stickiness lingers a little and the feeling is still vaguely there, a ghost of jerk-offs past. He isn't worried about being seen; if Barry knows what's good for him- and Barry does- he'll be sequestered in his room. Doing whatever it is that sequestered Barry does. Dan really doesn't want to know, no offense meant at all towards his friend.

Unceremoniously he flops back into bed and goes back to his attempt to sleep, hoping now that he's spent that restless and teased energy he'll get there.

 _Goodnight, babe_ and her face blip through his mind just one more time, vaguely, just on the edge of consciousness before he's gone.


	8. Not an Update

I'm extremely sorry to those of you that got excited to see something new here. I wish so much that this was a chapter. I wish I had anything to give you.

I want to assure you, readers, that I am absolutely, 100% going to continue this story. There WILL BE new material, at some point. I'm sorry it's been since the end of May.

It started out just "shit now I have to think of a date for them" and stalling, and lordie I wish that was still the case (lots of wishing here and not much to show for it) but I have been in a very negative place for quite some time. I've had to start taking my antidepressants again after not needing them for almost six months, and on top of the issues that lead me to need them again, it's very discouraging. I got to a better place and I stayed there on my own for so long, and now I'm back in this hole. I am not a functioning human being at present.

I just really felt like I should give you an explanation as to what's going on here. Again I fully intend on continuing this. If you're reading this, you're still here with me and I thank you very much for that.


	9. Make Damn Sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna make damn sure  
> that you can never leave.  
> no you won't ever get too far from me,  
> you won't ever get too far from me.
> 
> ( of real first dates and kissing. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo here we are kids, I hope it's not too rushed or anything. LET'SA GO.

Your outfit has been changed three times since you asked him. You can't help it, yet it's ridiculous to you. This is _Dan_ and he's not going to give two shits what you're wearing. He won't, but _you will_ , because of those three simple words once again: this is Dan. Never has a date mattered to you so much before.

"(Y/N), you look _fine,_ " Suzy assures again. She knew that you didn't need her help, but help wasn't why she offered her presence. You could do your own hair and makeup, things Dan also wouldn't care about, but you've been nervous as hell. This is the start of your second chance, your big break, and you can't afford to mess any bit of it up. Suzy's there to help you when you need it. She's curled your hair for you, more than loose waves but not structured enough to hold a candle to Dan's magnificent jewfro.

"But what if he-"

"He won't."

"Or I could-"

"You won't."

You quiet yourself and stare at your reflection in the full-length mirror. Fingers are gripping the edge of your planetary-themed dress, rubbing the fabric between skin. Suzy's right. You do look alright, like you've put some effort in but you haven't gone over the top. You look like _you_ , in point of fact. That's a good look to aim for, isn't it?

"I shouldn't say this," Suzy begins, smirking in that pleased-with-herself way she has, "but he's been nervous too. I don't think I was supposed to hear it but I know he asked Arin for advice on where to take you- as if Arin knows what to do on a date, I mean _come on._ " You can't help but laugh. Very briefly in the back of your mind, you wonder if one day you'll be making such deprecating jokes about Dan.

It hurts for just a second, but you're not going to let that sink in. Not today, and especially not now. You're about to start fixing it. You don't have time for another wave of self-imposed guilt.

"Do you know where he's taking me?"

"Ohhhh no, I see you being sneaky there and it's not going to work," Suzy chides. You groan and make a face.

"Can't blame me for trying." You look at yourself again. "What if I'm overdressed?" You're surprised Suzy doesn't cut you off midway through again.

"You're not," she assures simply again, smiling to you. "Trust me. You're not overdoing- or underdoing- this at all."

Almost shyly as nerves take hold of your innards again, you tuck a stray longer bit of bangs behind your ear and purple lips smile at yourself. _Trust her._ You can do this. More than that, you're going to rock this first date and make absolutely sure Danny will want a second one with you.

Oh, man, your thoughts have snuck one in on you and turned him to Danny again. You've been doing so well trying not to be attached, or fool yourself into thinking you're not. Oh well.

"You better get out of here," you say, an abrupt shift in conversation topic but the point is valid. He'll be there to pick you up soon, and you don't need Suzy hanging around like your mom. Though it would be cool to have such a gorgeous, goth mother.

"Text me everything when you get home, alright?" she asks while she nods and takes the few steps closer needed in order to hug you. "And don't worry. Everything is going to be great! I know it."

"Oh, well, if Suzy knows it then it must be true."

" _Exactly_ ," she confirms, brushing over your sass. "Now be home by curfew," she teases as she grabs her bag, as if she had sensed your previous thoughts of her mothering.

"Yes, Mom," you sigh, but you wave her off with a smile to meet her grin and watch from your front window as she retreats to her car and, in moments, drives off.

Is the dress really okay?

What about the Marvel Comics one you put on before? Would that be better? Oh, but you already matched your lipstick; you were too far in now to change your dress just like that.

What if lipstick was too much? Maybe you had better wipe it off. If you were going to eat somewhere then it would come off anyway, wouldn't it, and then wouldn't you just have to put it back on? Yes, this was too much. You take a deep breath and shake your head, quite aware of how ludicrous you were being, but you see some sense in the madness. At least in the lipstick part.

You hear the doorbell while you fumble in your bathroom. Water was not putting up much of a fight against the color on your lips. At least the cosmetic stands up to that wear and tear.

"Uh- just a second!" you shout, hoping Dan can hear you. It isn't too far from the bathroom, and it isn't as if you had needed to close the door. You continue to rub your lips, then realize _your fingers are purple_ and now you have to wash them off. The issue at hand is to look for the bottle of makeup remover or the package of wipes, whichever wants to show itself first. It turns into the wipes, and you furiously try to pinch one up and out of the small hole.

"Come _on,_ " you growl. Finally (though it's probably only a second or two, it feels like ages) you pull one out and rub a corner hard over your lips, leaving them a little puffy and vaguely magenta between the ghost of lipstick and their new natural shade of blood-rush pink. Well- it'll do.

"(Y/N)?" It's not particularly loud, but you hear it and blush and feel yourself becoming flustered. You should have left it the way it was, but there you go.

"I'm coming!" you yell back again. Purposefully you stop and make yourself take a deep breath, in and out, and you look your reflection in the eye. "You can _do this_ ," you murmur. "Believe in you like Suzy believes in you."

You almost forget the purple all over your fingers until you reach for the light switch and only just catch sight of the color from the corner of your eyes. Well, you _were_ coming. You're whining desperately for the color to come off faster and for the soap to work more efficiently, as if there's not enough soap in the world that can get rid of this.

"Whatever," you hiss as, thoroughly embarrassed now, you hastily dry off your hands, fling the hand towel in the counter's direction, flip off the light, and hurry to the door, opening it after what feels to you like a damn century.

"Hi," you say, almost a little too quickly or so it feels to you, and you quiet instantly. It's nothing shocking; you're just continuing to be hyperaware of your actions and nuances. Dan looks like Dan, though he shaved for you, you notice, and maybe his curls aren't quite as out of control as they could be. You recognize his jacket- it's the white one; you've seen it frequently in his Instagram posts. Should you say something? Maybe, but would that be weird? It would be admitting that you remember things like that, though shouldn't he already know that you're a weirdo? That should be fine- and you're running with this, and you're overdoing it, and you look down and brush some hair back again.

"Hey," Dan just says, but when you glance up, the first thing you pick up on is his wide, gentle smile. The nerves that had been tangled up inside you begin to disperse, and the only butterflies you're left with are over how dang cute he is without even trying.

"I see you found it," you move on, referring to whatever method of direction-finding he used, and you're able to smile more easily. There's a good start.

"I did," he agrees triumphantly. "We'll have to scratch 'couldn't find her house' off the list of awkward first date stories we can tell later." He's got you giggling, and he grins. You hate that grin (which means you love it, of course).

"So there's already a later?" you ask cheekily, smirking, your confidence and footing coming back to you the longer you banter.

" _Maybe,_ " Dan corrects you, but he hasn't stopped smiling and you know there's no ill will when he rolls his eyes. "I may be a pushover sometimes but don't you mistake me for an easy date already."

"You mean I'm gonna have to _try_?" you groan dramatically. "And here I thought I had this in the bag."

"Damn right you have to try. I am worth it," he sasses at you. You laugh again. The butterflies are gone, even as a momentary quiet sneaks in.

"You look pretty," Dan says softly. The heat in your cheeks is like fire to you, in reality a soft touch, as you look up enough to meet his gaze.

"Thank you," you reply almost shyly in spite of yourself. Dan looks off to the side after a second, and you remember to shut and lock the door and tuck your ring of keys back into the small bag you've had slung over your shoulder for at least an hour just to make sure you wouldn't forget it.

"Ready?" he asks brightly as you turn to him again. You nod with a confirming hum and follow him to the car.

"Where are we going?" you ask as you get buckled in. The speakers are already playing Rush, and you don't even try to suppress your eye roll, but like Dan's earlier, it's a good one. You'd never truly roll your eyes at a band like Rush, first of all, and secondly, it just figures.

"It's a secret," he teases in a silly voice. "You'll just have to wait and see." The latter is normal, and he shoots you a look as you pout at him. "Oh no, that's not gonna work. You can wait a little longer." He turned up the music and backed out of your little driveway, quietly singing along in a moment. He was right; pouting absolutely wasn't going to work, not when he had that to defend himself with.

"At least tell me if we're getting food first," you reason.

"We can if you want," Dan offers. "It doesn't matter- ah, shit."

"What's up?"

"No, sorry- real food we'll have to do later, but there will be options in the first part if you're really hungry, okay?"

"By 'options' I hope you don't mean your dick," you counter. He laughs harder than you thought he would, and it's infectious as always, and you're relieved to feel your grin. To feel this experience feeling good already.

To feel like Dan's happy with you again, even though you're still convinced you've got a long way ahead of you of things to make up for.

"No, (Y/N), I did not in fact mean you should suck my dick if you get hungry," he clarifies through the tail end of his laughter. "I have a shred of class. That's not for the first date."

"Oh, how charming of you."

"It's for the second."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking out the window lest his grin blind you if you were to look at him.

"That wasn't even a good joke."

"I thought it was."

* * *

The twists and turns it takes to get wherever you two are going keeps you curious, on top of the back and forth banter that seems to never end, and you never want it to. It sounds unacceptably cliché and you'll never say it, but Dan's gotten better with age. You can only hope you have too.

"Well?" Dan asks vaguely, nodding ahead as what you assume is the end of this driving quest comes before you. A gasp is out of your lips almost before you're even aware it's happening, as you look ahead, round eyes taking in the drive-in screen boasting their classic movie monsters night. The Creature from the Black Lagoon, the Blob, the Wasp Woman, some general dinosaur type monsters thrown in there for good measure- a giant crab's in there, a giant spider somewhere. A good mix.

"Do you like it?" he asks. There's the slightest nervousness brewing inside him, the longer you're quiet, and he watches you, eyes going over the graphic again.

"You remembered how much I love this dumb shit," you acknowledge softly. Of all the possibilities of what this date could be, watching classic creature features at a drive-in with you was not one that crossed your mind.

"Of course I remembered," he brushes off like it's nothing, but it's _not_ nothing. It's absolutely something to you, and you almost want to make sure he understands that, but you don't say anything. "How could I forget after how pissed you were by the ending when you made me watch The Crater Lake Monster with you?"

"I forgot about that!" you laugh, looking at him with startled disbelief, but it's a pleasant feeling. He remembers this about you. He _remembers_ after a decade at least how personally offended you were when the characters you'd been rooting for did not get the happy ending you hoped for and how dissatisfied you were with the whole ending regardless of those two characters. He remembers this utterly pointless shit about you, after all this time, and plans your first real date around creature features because he remembers you used to like them so much.

You're pretty certain you don't deserve goodness like his.

"This is really cool of you, thank you," you say finally, smiling softly. Dan shrugs, but he's smiling too, and you feel assured he's pleased with himself. He ought to be.

"C'mon," he tells you as he shuts off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt. "Let's get snacks- as long as you promise not to throw anything when you get mad about a plot twist." You glower at him and he immediately bursts into a laugh. It's difficult to hold your expression through it, but you almost manage.

"Excuse me but Crater Lake Monster isn't on that list, okay? Okay."

"Aww, are you mad?" he keeps teasing.

"Are you mad?" you repeat in a very mocking voice, and he laughs.

"Will it help if I tell you you're pretty again?" he asks. "Because I'll say it again."

"Am I pretty because you think so or am I pretty because you don't want to continue this date with a mad girl?" you question, pondering as you try to keep up with him. When he looks back at you again, he slows down, working to keep up with you instead.

"There's a lot more reasons than just 'because I think so,'" he says, "but for right now, because I think so, _duh._ " He slips his hand around yours, a casual motion as if you're not going to notice it or the classic connotations that hand-holding has had for a number of years, and he doesn't play it up at all. "Silly goose."

For a moment you're too busy smiling like an idiot to say anything, but you squeeze his hand softly just to let him know you're on board with it, if not removing yourself from the gesture didn't make that point already.

" _You're_ a silly goose."

* * *

The two of you get lost trying to find the highest rated pizza place in this fairly unfamiliar suburb of LA you've found yourselves in. The fact that he went out of the way to find a drive-in showing what you'd like, even though it may have been a coincidence and not a huge effort, silently spoke volumes to you, but there's no denying your humor in his increased confused frustration as every turn your phone speaks seems to be the wrong one.

"Fuck this, I give up," he laughs in exasperation, throwing up his hands at a red light. "You good with Chinese?"

"I am always good with Chinese."

"Put in the one you like and get us out of here, please."

"Are you sure? It doesn't have to be mine," you assure.

"(Y/N), please, I don't want to be here anymore. Fuck this place and its streets of lies." You try and fail to hold in a laugh and shake your head, looking up the Chinese restaurant you usually order for yourself from.

"You know what we have, though?"

"What?" Dan asks, looking at you.

"An awkward first date story to tell later," you reply, grinning. It takes a moment, but Dan smiles, all the way across his face and it stays when he has to look ahead again as the light turns green.

* * *

You offer to bring the food to your place, but Dan insists that no, this is a date and you're going to do it right and eat somewhere. Even if the somewhere in question is the picnic tables- a Chinese establishment with picnic tables is one he hasn't seen before, but it's LA and nothing here surprises him anymore, not really- out front. It's still light out to get away with using them, the sunset only just beginning, though it's dark by the time you have to be ushered away from the tables by a small Chinese woman. You lose track of time when you're with him so easily, but Dan didn't catch on to the night's progression either. He's more interested in watching you and listening to you, truth be told, than in the time. You were always more interesting to him than quite a number of things.

"I had a really good time tonight," you say on your doorstep, immediately blushing and regretting the words. How overused must that phrase have been? How many times had it been said in a television movie, or a teen rom-com, or- or anything; the point is you could have thought of anything better.

"Good. Me too," Dan responds. It must not have bothered him too much; he goes along with it without a mockery. You're surprised, but then, he must mean it.

"Did you have a good time because you really did, or because you don't want to end a date with a mad dude?" he questions, and there it is, a mock of what you said at the drive-in and you squint at him. He squints back until one of you breaks. It's you, with a smile.

"Because I really did, _duh_ ," you mock back. "Silly goose."

"Oh I am _not_ a silly goose."

"Oh _really_? You didn't deny it earlier."

"Would a silly goose say..." He pauses, and you squint slightly again while you watch him think, wondering what he's up to here. He makes unexpected eye contact with you as he steps close to you. "I really..." You know his range of sexy voices, and usually you laugh, because you're used to hearing them with Ninja Sex Party lyrics. This is different, and you aren't expecting it and he's got the upper hand and you know it. _Rude._ Very rude. "Had a good time tonight..." He tilts your chin up, looking right at him, and he gives you just a flash of a smile and you feel vaguely the sensation of a swallow in your throat. Shit. "With you," and that's when he kisses you, lips enveloping yours in a paradox of both gentleness and firmly claiming those lips as his to kiss. When his tongue softly pads at your lips, you don't resist and open up for him. The kiss deepens; you hold onto his jacket but still take a step back until your back is against the door. Danny just moves with you, towering over you, dominating your mouth and guiding your tongue with his.

He's literally taken your breath away, and you _hate_ how you've gone and used another cliché but there it is. You're breathing harder than you want to be as you look up at him, flushed and heated, and he looks so cool and pleased with himself, smiling wide.

"Do you, um," you begin, tucking some hair behind your ear, "do you wanna come in?" You aren't expecting the wince that flickers over his face, and you feel your brows furrow in confusion.

"I really, really can't this time," he apologizes. "I have an early morning. Work stuff."

"But I-"

"Will hear from me when I get some safe, because I know you like to know that," he cuts you off. It isn't at all what you meant, but he isn't wrong about you appreciating that information from your friends. You're embarrassed and look down, nodding as you attempt to recover and grapple with wondering what the fuck he's trying to do to you.

"Okay," you murmur. "That's fine then." You glance up after a second or two and catch him smiling at you, a soft one, affectionate.

"Did I prove my non-goose status a little too hard?" he asks.

"Maybe a little," you concede, especially if he's going to really be that person who _leaves_ after weakening you in the knees and reducing your breath to panting.

"Maybe this is better," he says, and quickly he's kissing you again, but this one is unquestionably softer but with no less meaning or intent. He cups your face, and your body starts to mold against his-- and _the damn tease pulls away again._

"Y'know, it kind of goes against my nature, but it feels good to be the one with the power this time," he whispers against your lips, then he grins, and your mouth drops open in stunned silence, at first.

"What?" you ask. The power this time? _What?_

"You heard me," he teases, straightening. "I know you've spent these ten years missing me, same as I've missed you."

"Shouldn't that mean I have some power too?"

"Yeah but, the thing is, I intend to make you fall in love so hard that you will _never_ leave me again. You won't even want to go out of town; that's how head over heels you're gonna be."

 _Love._ He wants to love you- you aren't sure for a second that you aren't going to swoon.

"And if I have to play just a little unfair to do it, well-" He shrugs, like it's nothing, like he doesn't have your heart in his hands.

"I didn't see this side of you coming," you admit. "But I think I could get into it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, and you smirk up at him before turning to unlock your door. "But you better be careful, Danny."

"Oh?" he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, smirk turning rather smug with the motion.

"You've already outlined your plan to me. I can work on a defense strategy now," you explain briefly.

"Defense," he scoffs. "We'll see about that."

"Yeah, we will," you assure. "Goodnight, Danny. Remember to text me when you're home."

"I will. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

You slip inside and turn on a light, a signal to the world you are home and everything is fine. From its comfort you watch Dan get back in his car and leave, and that is when you let out a dramatic and held-in groan of frustration as you flop onto your couch.

Boy's going to be the absolute death of you, isn't he?


	10. I was Hoping You were Someplace Near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'cause if given just another chance,  
> I would do it all again;  
> and I would take my sweet, damn time,  
> so long as I can call it mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEEEEEEY KIDS I HOPE YOU'RE STILL HERE!! I know it's been AGES upon ages but I'm trying to get back on track. this is kind of a teaser chapter, I'll admit right now. I have some things planned, I'm really excited and I hope you will be too!

Danny is better at teasing you than you'd hoped, and he wastes no time.

When Suzy asks you to hang out with her at the Grump space more, when you aren't busy with Average White Shark or work, there always manages to be your favorite coffee blend or a Dr. Pepper for you, or coincidentally a brand new box of Moon Pies, your favorite, yet Dan is nowhere to be found. Suzy thinks it's endlessly cute and amusing, leaving you presents but not letting you catch him when, of course, _he_ is what you want most. You always insist it's not funny. She says it is. He must have finally completed his ninja training.

There are changes in his Instagram posts, very subtle changes- more things that _you_ like, specifically. There's just slightly less goofball and more sex god, and more than once you've just closed your eyes, shook your head hard, popped out of the app and put down your phone. Sometimes- not often, but once in a while- he'll post glimpses of the upcoming album, Under the Covers Part II. You're extremely close to calling him and telling him to knock that shit off when you click play and hear his voice singing the chorus of "Pour Some Sugar on Me." He knows that's one of your sex songs. He _knows_ what it does. He knows what he does.

You don't give him the satisfaction of letting him know it's working.

He's flirty in his texts with you. You try not to notice, but it's impossible. When you flirt back, it just encourages him to keep playing this cat and mouse game. When you push back, he goes quiet for a day or two and leaves you hanging.

So you start ignoring him and keeping it strictly friendly. You aren't _really_ ignoring him. You just aren't letting his flirtatious attempts get the better of you. And at first, it seems to work a little bit.

 _At first_. These things never last, you know.

Suzy's got you at the Grump space to be a guest on her channel. Dan's gotten you so used to his ninja skills that you don't even think about the chances of seeing him. To be honest, all you're thinking about is that you're running late and the last thing you want to do is hold up time in the recording room for anybody. You may be somewhat friends with most of them, very tight with Suzy and... and whatever it is you are with Dan, but you aren't a Grump yet.

Not that you expect to become one, or that you expect anything from any of them- your head is just going a mile a minute, frazzled and when a set of arms grabs you, a startled sound erupts out of you. It's not until you realize that's Danny's chuckle at your expense that your body starts to relax- but that doesn't mean you aren't squinting, even though it's not fully aimed at him yet.

"Shh, it's just me," he assures, turning you around so he can see you in this- are you in a closet? Is that what this space is? Your squint continues, but it's hard to keep it going when up against his cheeky grin. "Aw, you so _mad_ ," he teases, in one of his array of silly voices you've heard in many an episode. "I thought you'd be happy to see me finally."

Well, he's not wrong.

"Let go of me," you whine grumpily, squirming as you realize he's still holding you.

"But I missed holding you," he whines back.

"I'm late for Suzy's thing!" you whine harder. "You're just making me even later."

"Is that really all I'm doing?" he asks huskily as his large hands press flat to your back and bring you closer; those words ghost right past your ear, and you stop your wriggling and swallow, hoping he doesn't notice. Oh, brother.

"Dan," you huff. You have to be strong. You have to hold out against this. He's just showing you how much he's enjoying the fact that he _knows_ he's been winning this challenge so far.

"All I'm doing is making you even later for Suzy?" he questions doubtfully. His hands slide lower to cup your ass. His teeth nip your earlobe and gently tug on it, and while you curse at yourself inside for letting it out, you gasp softly. "Are you _sure_?"

If he wants to hear you say anything, you're not going to. You are determined. Well, not that that's saying much. You've been determined throughout this whole plan of his and it's not like you've really won any battles.

"Daniel," you scold this time, trying to get your arms free to pry his off of you. "I really don't have time for this-"

"Alright, fine," he groans annoyedly, "I'll make this short then."

"What-"

You had intended to ask what on earth he's talking about, because this closet escapade has gone on too long to be short, but he cuts you off with a kiss. One of his hands is still spread over one of your ass cheeks, squeezing over your denim, and the other hand cups the side of your face, his fingers slithering back into your hair. He even pulls it a little, and between that and his tongue taking the figurative wheel here and once again leaving you out of breath- and then he has the gall to bite your lip when he moves to pull away- you're wrecked.

You just stand there wide-eyed and flushed, looking up at him with your lips still slightly parted. Dan smirks at you and slides his hand out of your hair, away from your face.

"After you, Miss Late-For-Suzy," he says innocently, moving his hand off of your ass finally as he opens the closet door.

"Oh- yeah, right," you murmur and shake your head hard, trying to rid yourself of the sudden excess fog that's filled it up. Dan chuckles and grins at you, and it seems like he's instantly gone somehow. You don't know where he went. You aren't supposed to know. This was just the next step.

"Oh, _fuck,_ " you whimper to yourself before you stomp off towards where you should have been in the first place. This is definitely not the condition you wanted to be in to record.

"Hey, there you are!" These are the words that greet you when you finally make it to Suzy, briefly saying hi to Barry and Arin on the short walk. Arin gave you a certain look; _great,_ so he knows. He must. There's no one else that stands such a high chance of being Dan's co-conspirator. Considering he's Suzy's other half, this feels like betrayal. Or maybe you're just a little too frustrated.

Other than that small acknowledgment of wondering where you've been, Suzy seems nonplussed until she takes a second look at you. She raises a brow while you sit on the couch in a huff. "You okay?" You take a deep breath and nod, but now both perfectly groomed eyebrows are raised and you know Suzy doesn't believe a word.

Well... Dan has his co-conspirator. Why shouldn't you have yours?

"Listen," you start, turning to face her better. "I have _got_ to get the upper hand on this whole thing with Dan." Slowly a smile creeps all the way across Suzy's face.

"Go on."

"I knew I could count on you."


	11. I Want to Hear You Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I focused on the outline,  
> and I focused on the scenes.  
> I watched it come apart and  
> I knew that it could have been me.
> 
> ( of dan getting what's coming to him tbh. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo~ this is another chapter where not a particular lot happens, but it's important filler that pushes us to the next big thing, so here we are.
> 
> (also holy shit I've noticed some of you who have liked this dumb thing are big in the fandom and I'm like OOOOH MY GODDDD THEY READ MY THING I'M DEAD I'VE JUST BECOME A GHOST so yeh thanks, but also thanks to every single one of you readers. <3)

"Dude, your girlfriend's hot today."

"Arin."

"What? Look at her post!"

Dan rolls his eyes, but he doesn't push the issue. She's not his girlfriend. Not yet. To be honest, he probably should have arranged a second date by now, and instead he's just been teasing her from afar while trying to figure out how to get to that point. Very mature, Daniel Avidan, very adult behavior. Very much the way to get the girl. The memory of the other day's encounter flits through his mind and he smiles for a moment, before Arin just short of shoves the phone right into Dan's face.

Dan swallows at the sight of the leather-jacketed goddess on the screen. She doesn't do red lips very often, never did, but when she does, she's incredibly sexy. She must know that. She has to, right? How could she _not_? He tries not to admire her too much, but it's just one of those pictures that's _supposed to_ be admired, all alluring expression and tight shirt and leather. She was aiming for sexy, and Dan can very assuredly claim she succeeded.

"Uh." He shakes his head and looks off to the side. "Well, okay."

" _Okay,_ " repeats Arin. "Okay, Dan? She looks like she's about to debut as some kind of rock villainess."

"Can we- y'know, not-"

"Ohhh, right, right."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Gonna pre dude."

This is not what Dan was hoping for, and he pointedly avoids looking at Arin's dumbass grin.

"Gonna pre!"

"Arin," Danny sighs in exasperation.

"I mean I'm just stating facts here." Dan whines in the back of his throat as he shakes his head.

"Gonna pre," he grumbles, more for Arin's entertainment than anything. He isn't Dan's best friend for nothing, even while he's laughing annoyingly loud as he walks after Dan through the Grump space.

* * *

He's even less comfortable later in the day when he checks up on YouTube in curiosity and discovers Average White Shark has been hard at work. It's very raw footage, unedited and really more of a rehearsal than anything, but a very in-depth and honest look at how they work together and refine their music. It's an interesting idea and in a way, brave, at least to put on the internet. Dan knows full well the wrath trolls can bring. He skims over the description box for fleeting seconds and sees something about wanting to know what people think of the Joan Jett set they've been toying around with.

No wonder she was channeling a rock villainess on Instagram.

He almost doesn't watch it, almost manages to just go back and _not_ fall into this. It won't end well for him if he does. Or well, it _will_ but his winning status won't be so secure if there at all anymore. He almost gets away unscathed, if shaken at the possibilities of what lies behind the thumbnail.

But only almost.

It takes him a minute and another look at the description to figure out the first song through its opening chords, and his confidence sinks. There's just no way "I Hate Myself for Loving You" isn't directed at him. It's part of the laws of physics at this point. He swallows and doesn't quite realize it when his body starts pushing into the couch like he's trying to let it eat him and escape this. _Goddamn,_ her hips like that- was that necessary? Truly necessary?

Well, he knows Excalibur thinks it was. He's just glad this is _his_ couch at home and not... fuck, if the others even knew right now how much he was struggling here, Arin especially.

Thinking about Arin while watching the woman he's interested in manage to sing, play guitar, and somewhat dance sexily all at the same time does more damage to his arousal than he'd ever expected, and he's grateful. Not that it's something he's ever wondered about, nor something he's ever thought he'd be relieved to have- but as long as he has a way to hold out against this video ammunition, he'll go with it.

_I think of you every night and day. You took my heart, and you took my pride away._

This is totally directed at him. Fuck the whole "just testing out a cover set and wanted to show you a rehearsal jam" excuse; the whole thing is a plot, Dan is convinced. A plot against him as revenge for roughing her up before her time with Suzy.

_I hate myself for lovin' you. Can't break free from the things that you do. I wanna walk, but I run back to you. That's why I hate myself for lovin' you._

If it _is_ about him, though... He sits up again, suddenly curious and with more emotional investment than alternating between being proud of her and wallowing in his distressingly confused arousal (only so because he's really unsure now if he wants to keep pushing her to see what she'll do next or just give up). In a way, these lyrics could be construed as her admitting defeat. Can't break free, running back, took her heart and took her pride away. It _could be_ an indirect way of saying he's won. Unlikely, but it's something to remember, maybe something to text her later and see how she reacts.

Despite all the sudden theorizing, he still feels his cock give a twitch in his jeans while his gaze is still glued to the video. They start in on "I Love Rock 'n Roll" while Dan, in a huff, abruptly stands and relocates to his bedroom. While he doesn't think Barry will be home soon, he isn't about to take that chance. Fate hasn't been kind to him today.

* * *

It's been quiet today, at least on the Dan front. You aren't sure if it seems alarmingly quiet because you're just impatient and anxious for a reaction, or if it really is. Suzy's assured you more than once it's the former, and you aren't going to ask her yet again.

The vibration of your phone on your lap draws your attention away from Netflix, and the smile across your face is Grinchlike as you read the name and swipe to read.

_> You and me. Tomorrow whenever we're both done working. We're going out. Not open for debate._

You're impressed and pleased by his demand. You and Suzy had come up with more of a plan than merely playing up your sexuality on social media and some carefully chosen songs (that you had admittedly already been off and on working on covering, so it worked out well on that front), but if that's all it takes to get Dan to ask you on date number two, then that's fine with you. That just leaves more up your sleeve for when you need it.

_> >I get off work at 4, home around 4:30._

_> Then you're mine no later than 5._

_> >Oh am I?_

_> Yep. Mine. I'm not playing games. Watch out._

Something about that starts a flutter in your chest, and you know you'll be smiling the rest of the night. Maybe you have not yet won the battle, but you have definitely scored some points.


	12. It's That Same Dark Space Where You'll Get Torn Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it takes so long.  
> you're going forward looking back,  
> a body like a welcome mat.  
> you never even stood a chance.
> 
> ( of fears coming to light. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh i set out to write about the second date and somehow this happened instead. -finger guns-

He's in this damn corner of having to figure out something to do on a date again. If it's even a date. He figures it must be, because at this point it's too late to be anything less. Is that how she sees it too? Of course it is; it has to be, after every word that's been exchanged since this whole thing started, ever since he couldn't help himself and _needed_ to see her again and went to that Battle of the Bands- and yet- he's anxious.

What if she still isn't as serious about this as he needs her to be?

Why does he need that in the first place? He's a grownass man. He doesn't _need_ her to be serious about him. Looking at everything he's somehow managed to accumulate in life: the best friend he could've asked for (well, friends; there is more to his social life than Arin, and he almost chuckles as in the middle of this reasoning he can hear Arin's robot impression calling himself Friend Arin, and he very quickly shakes himself out of that train of thought before it can get derailed any further than it already has), so much love and support from the Grumps' lovelies and the fans of Ninja Sex Party, the fact that there's even a niche- a very large, very loving and very awesome niche- for comedic bands and Youtube channels that just sit there and play videogames (sometimes badly, but people like them anyway)... Everything is mind boggling when he looks at it that way.

But before any of that, in too-expensive Brooklyn apartments filled with dreams and a couple of sparks desperately trying their hardest to dodge reality's raindrops and peter out, there was her.

It's so fucking stupid- and he feels the same, and it leaves a bitter taste- but all that he has would feel so much better if she was a part of it. And she is- she's back in his life and they're friends, right? They're trying to be more than friends, even with this back and forth teasing game they seem to have going on, and it's progress, and he's happy with it. He really is.

Maybe it's just an off day. All of this came on so suddenly; he can't really figure out why. Arin's been nudging him back to reality again, and Dan can't apologize enough. This isn't something he's willing to say on an episode. This isn't something he's sure he's willing to say at all.

" _Dan._ " Arin's firmness has just enough annoyance in it that Dan knows he has to listen this time, and he smooths some of his unruly hair back as he tries to smile in spite of himself and laughs.

"I'm sorry," he whines out, wishing he could retreat his tall and lanky frame into the couch.

"Trying to make some decisions here and you just wanna zone out on me," he huffs dramatically. "Go play some fucking Space Quest or something, you space cadet." There's no malice in his words; if anything, there's subtle concern. It's not unusual for Dan to have his head in the clouds sometimes, but Arin is suspicious, especially when Dan just smiles a little and shakes his head. That's all the reaction he's going to get?

Arin sighs, just as dramatically as previous, turns on the couch, and looks at him.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"What do you mean what's going on?"

"Are you fucking really-"

"Okay, okay," Dan cuts him off, wincing inwardly before Arin can really be annoyed. He shouldn't have followed up with that, and he knows. It's going to take a minute to figure out what to say, though. Fortunately, Arin seems to pick up on this in Dan's body language, a little furrow in his brow and a sort of frown.

"Does this have anything to do with (Y/N)?" The question hangs between them, like the mention of her name and the memories that won't just stop squirming already in his stomach instead of his head. But Arin waits.

"Yeah," Dan answers, halfway sighing, after a beat and nodding. "Yeah, it... It has everything to do with her."

"Dude, I thought you made a second date with her," Arin says, confusion and concern mixing together. Confern. That sounds terrible, like it's making fun of someone with a speech impediment. "She didn't... you know-"

"No, no." Dan waves that off quickly. "I just..."

"You're nervous."

"I am nervous."

"Why the hell are you nervous?" There's a quiet again. Arin knows for a fact that there is a whole other chapter to this story that no one has told him. He wonders if Suzy knows it. If so, he's been _very_ left out in the cold on this one, and it's very rude, but he won't say it. That would be even more rude. While he made a character of himself being an ass on the show more often than not, that really wasn't who he tried to be.

"There's a lot I haven't told you about her," Dan admits quietly. Arin waits, unsure if Dan is going to continue off of that statement.

"Do you want to tell me?" he asks. Dan sighs and looks at the ceiling. "I mean, you don't have to- but when you're ready or something, dude, please. I know deep shit isn't usually what we do but you're my best friend. I like to think I'm here for you for the deep shit too."

Dan smiles a little finally, and Arin feels immensely better.

"I knew her back in New York, when I was doing Skyhill." Arin almost pipes up again, but he holds his tongue. He remembers Dan mentioning they'd been friends in the past. He just hadn't gone into where exactly, and given it sometimes feels like Dan's been fucking everywhere, he'd seen no reason to press for specifics. "She had a band then, too. And we uh... we were friends." Arin wants to remind him that he knows very well by now that they were _more_ than friends, but he still sits quiet. If Dan wants to go about this in the roundabout way, he'll let him.

"I think I've told you that part before, all the basics," Dan says, shifting directions, and shifting his gaze as well, now at the floor. Arin's smart, but more importantly it doesn't take a talented brain to know none of that would be part of what's bothering him. He's stalling. He's running around the point in a circle so he doesn't have to talk about it, but Arin's not going to let him get out of it. He knows.

"I was in love with her." He looks at Arin suddenly when he hears the long release of a breath.

"I thought that was gonna be it," he admits. Dan shrugs a little, looking back at some random spot on the floor again. That's all Arin says, waiting for Dan to continue.

"I wanted... to make a life with her, you know?" There's something quiet in Dan's voice all of a sudden that Arin isn't used to, now that they've made it here. It's strange to listen to, and while it isn't like any of them haven't had a specific hushed, smaller voice when they talked about certain things that had a profound effect on who they were- or even less deep things- it's uncomfortable. Dan's a sunbeam that's larger than life, not this. Is it weird he thinks that about him? It's just something he's seen lovelies describe him as before, and they're not at all wrong.

"I'd uh... I'd thought about..." What kind of ring was right for her. If his parents would like her. How she'd get along with Dana. What kind of dogs they'd have. God, this isn't helping. This makes it all feel worse and the coil in his stomach is only tighter. He can't say these things to Arin. He can't say them at all.

"Anyway she had a boyfriend-"

"She _what-_ "

Dan ignores Arin's outburst and cuts him off, "and she didn't think the band would last if she left him, because she'd have had to leave the band too- which just should have shown everyone the band wasn't going to make it anyway if it couldn't stand up to her leaving and whatever effect that had on the guy..."

"Are you about to tell me she picked the band over you?" Arin asks, and he has an apology on his tongue, honestly, but he couldn't stop himself. She seemed so nice, so cool in fact, but... But she picked a _band_ \- over young Dan Avidan ready to give the world to her? Dan doesn't say anything though, and Arin's even more concerned now, and he really should have just kept his big mouth shut and let Dan finish, goddamnit.

"Dan, I'm sorry..." he offers. He watches hopefully as Dan's eyes flicker over to him.

"We loved each other. I know that for absolute fact," Dan says quietly. For a short while, that's all there is, just quiet. Arin mulls over the story- ish- that Dan's given him, and Dan lets it rest. It feels a little better. At least Arin knows where they've been now.

"You're nervous because she's hurt you before," Arin voices suddenly. Now he's the one with that reserved, soft tone used for special and deep occasions. "Do you think you're going too fast on this?"

"I mean... not really? I've spent the last couple weeks teasing the shit out of her, hot and cold. It's been a little while since we went out," Dan admits, shrugging again.

"But you're still nervous."

"I just... I feel so stupid, you know? And it's _not_ stupid, I know that, but I believe her. I believe when she says it's the biggest regret of her life and I believe how much she wants to try things now. I... I know she's not that girl who's going to pick the band over me. I _know_ that."

"But you can't help worrying you aren't enough." The quiet settles again. Despite being Arin, he's nailed it.

"Yeah," Dan says, the word small.

"Well," Arin begins, shifting on the couch so neither of his legs fall asleep, "I don't know her _well_ \- but she seems like a good person, and I know _you_ well enough to know you wouldn't be attracted to her or care so much if she really wasn't a good person. And I know my wife well enough to know that she wouldn't so quickly consider her such a close friend if she wasn't, too." He makes valid points, Dan has to admit. Even if he's doubting himself, he knows (Y/N) isn't a hellspawn deceiving everyone for their love and friendship. Sweet as Suzy is, she's got her wits about her and would see through that about instantly.

"But uh, not to be rude- we got a show to do, dude, and a recording room we're holding up the line for," Arin moves on, after more lingering quiet. At least Dan's smiling a little; it can't be all bad.

"You mean nobody posted the sign outside that this is now the therapy room?" Dan jokes. There he is. He's back now. Arin can't say he's not relieved.

"You wanna kick my ass some more on Dream Course like you've been doing?"

"Of course."


	13. But I'll be Right There Beside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> but when I let you down,  
> look past your doubt.  
> just, please, please  
> don't lose your faith in me.
> 
> ( of old scars and hurt coming to the surface, and healing. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT THIS FAR GUYS, I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS TRAIN IS GONNA STOP BUT I FOR ONE AM GLAD TO BE ON IT. or well... I guess I'm driving it really but either way. also this is hella long, but I didn't want to cut it up. it's also 3:45 in the morning and I'm too tired to proofread (I've been trying to do better about that because later on I'll read my own shit and see ah fuck I missed that word) so heeeeey

Dan did not expect the shots to keep coming after the loosely made plans to go out today. (Y/N) won this round; wasn't that enough? Evidently no, not a bit, judging by the image he's staring up at on his phone blinking bleary eyed through sleepy eyes. "Good morning!" the caption cheekily states. She's certainly trying hard to make sure it is, with her bathrobe tied loosely and her wet hair. Should he be jealous? She's posted this for everyone to see, but then, what's the alternative? Send it only to him? This is the next level of their game, true enough, but maybe _that_ level is too far ahead just yet.

Either way though, fuck.

_> Is that how today's gonna be?_

He shoots off the text quickly then pulls himself out of bed, forcing himself to leave the phone on the sheets and not bring it with him to the bathroom. He's fine. Just a little rattled, just needs a minute or two, that's all. He'll be _just fine_ after a shower and a piss, not that he isn't fine now, because he _is_.

He comes back for the phone, cursing at himself.

_> >I don't know what you mean._

He squints at the angelic emoji at the end of her sentence, huffing some crazy curl out of his face.

_> You know exactly what I mean, Miss Bathrobe. Is that how you wanna do this?_

He sets the phone down by the bathroom sink, determined to ignore her until he's accomplished something. She can just wait. It won't kill her. It won't kill him, either. He'd started the shower before he returned to his room, and now reaching in, he turns the temperature down slightly. Dan's pretty sure he's going to need it.

She's answered by the time he's done. Though dripping, he goes for his phone before the towel- fuck, man, where are his priorities? He's losing his head over her. The nerves he spoke of yesterday are threatening to flare again of how damn into her he is. Is she like this? Does she scramble for the phone once she can check if there's any word from him? Smile like a dingus when there is?

_> >Well I thought it over, and it's exactly how I wanna do this._

There's a devil emoji following. Of course. Why wouldn't there be? He rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. The phone gets put back down only while he towels his hair some. If she wants to play, he'll play. She's the one who brought it to this point, and frankly, he's beginning to realize how much his imposed cat and mouse teasing drove him crazy too. Oh sure, that was the goal, but only towards her, not himself. It can't be helped, he figures.

It takes a minute or two before he's satisfied, but he's smirking to himself as he sends off his own image- but only to her, not to the whole internet. Not with the towel wrapped around his hips.

_> Alright. You wanna play games, we can play._

He notes the change from delivered to read, and he feels very smug about the whole thing. Maybe back in the day, he would have been flustered enough by her antics to let her be the instigator and win right off the bat, but the two of them have changed.

_> I thought you said yesterday you're not playing games._

_> >Ohh no, you're not getting out of this that easy. You started it. But if you can't take the heat..._

He makes the short walk back to his bedroom in the time it takes for her to reply. This difference this time is Dan's confidence is settled.

_> You're lucky I'm at work where I can't do anything about it._

_> And I'm unlucky for the same reason, daaaaamn Daniel._

_> >Did you really just..._

_> DAMN DANIEL what are you rocking under that towel_

_> >You are at work and I don't want you to get in trouble, I'll leave you to your vine memes and sexy wonderings._

_> Rude._

That seems a good a time as any to let her sit without a response for a little while. May the best tease win.

* * *

_> I've been thinking about that picture, but I'm sure you knew I would be. I bet that was your plan all along. Does that turn you on? Posting sexy pictures to get my attention?_

_> Did you think I'd touch myself? I'd rather touch you. I'd rather see what's under that robe, slide it off you and kiss your skin as it shows. Remember how perfectly your boobs used to fit in my hands? I bet they're even better now. Wanna kiss you against the wall and touch you like I know you want._

_> >Are you sexting me?_

_> Do you want me to sext you?_

_> >Not now particularly, no._

_> But I didn't even get started about your other parts, are you sure?_

_> >Some of us are working, BYE._

You groan into your sandwich as you put down your phone more forcefully than at all necessary, garnering a bewildered look from your coworker that you don't acknowledge.

* * *

_> Hey, I know we're on for tonight, but recording's going a little long. Maybe 6 instead of 5? Is that good for you?_

_> >Yeah that's fine! Just let me know when you're on your way._

_> Great, thanks. You're still gonna be mine, though._

_> >Can't wait._

Dan really, really hopes you mean it.

* * *

The waiting is even more painfully slow-going now that you know Dan will be late, but it's alright. It allows you the time to take a nap, a delightful award for putting up with belligerent customers who fail to understand the concept of brand-specific sales and other such calls throughout your shift. It takes a toll on you, but it pays surprisingly well, and so you stay. Unfortunately, your nap does not pay well, fitful sleep with Dan creeping into your thoughts. You had known this morning he would retaliate if you posted that picture, but you hadn't expected it to effect you so much.

Your heart leaps into your chest when your doorbell rings, with only one word in your mind: Dan. It's too early though, it can't be, unless he's surprising you. He could be; you wouldn't put it past him, especially not after the day you've had with his antics. There's eagerness in you when you get up and answer it- to be met with Zack, smiling through his beard.

"Hey," you greet, smiling and not unhappy even though he most certainly is not Dan. "What's up?"

"I was in the neighborhood and you forgot your notebook at practice, remember?" He holds up the small, hardcover book and waves it a little. "Saw your car home and I thought I'd swing by."

"There it is! Thanks." Zack hands it over without a fuss. Even though it hasn't been on your mind, having it back in your hands calms you. These pages hold all of your jotted-down lyric ideas, note combinations you want to try, all kinds of ideas and thoughts from your heart straight onto the paper. A part of you is written inside it, and to have it back with you brings you peace. "You wanna come in? I have plans later but I'm free for a bit, since you're already here, y'know?"

"Sure." Zack shrugs with his singular answer and moves in when you step to the side, softly closing the door behind you both. "Actually I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Oh yeah?" He's looking at some new (since last time he was here anyway) artwork on your living room wall while you put down your notebook on a side table, near the couch. "What about?" Zack seems to hesitate a little, or perhaps mulling over the words he could use. It concerns you. Zack does think before he speaks, but it doesn't feel quite like that. If he's been wanting to bring this up, whatever it is, surely he would have some idea of the general words he wants to say by now. That's what he does. He plans, he thinks.

"I don't mean anything wrong by this," he sighs, looking at you finally. Instantly you feel an eyebrow raise and a frown settle in. "But... we've all noticed it; you've started changing, these last few weeks."

"What do you mean, changing?" The question is asked warily, and you sit on the couch, eyeing him all the way.

"It's that... That guy, (Y/N), you're doing things differently. And he's a good guy; I know this, all three of us know it-"

"Wait, all of you are in this? You said we the first time but you're still saying it."

"Yeah, it's we. I kind of got elected to say something because Ben's gonna be a dick about it unintentionally-" You have to nod; it's true. "And Ariana looks up to you so much, she doesn't want you to be mad at her, so..."

"So it came to you," you finish, shaking your head but it all makes sense, and you nod. "Alright, fine. What's the big idea then?"

"There's not really an _idea_ , really," Zack half-counters, and he claims the other end of the couch. "Just to ask if you're okay, and if _this_ is okay, you posting provocative pictures and the Joan Jett songs-"

"We all agreed to those songs way before I even had a date with Dan."

"But you got more insistent about doing them _now,_ the last couple weeks. We were working on other things and suddenly no, we have to record this, we have to make sure it's _seen._ And it was fun, and it's been cool, the way people have responded to it, but... (Y/N), what are you doing here?"

"What are you, the band counselor?" you gripe. It leaves a hollow feeling for a moment, and your shoulders sag slightly, a sheepishness taking hold. "I'm sorry, Zack. I know you mean well."

"Hey, it's alright. I might react the same way." He brushes it off like it's nothing, and you have to smile. It's small, but it's there. Zack is a wall. Not that he's unfeeling, but rather, he understands feeling and isn't beat up by one reaction or another. The band can depend on him to calmly help settle anything. Any disputes, any emotional turmoil, hell even Ariana's coursework a couple of times. Maybe you take that for granted sometimes.

"I... I don't know," you confess, a long exhale right on its tail and your fingers tossing your hair back. "You have to understand, Zack, Dan and I go way back. We've been entangled in each other's lives for _years_ , and having him back... It's extremely important to me."

"I get that." Zack nods. "I just don't want to see you try too hard and get yourself hurt."

"He won't hurt me." The words come out almost as soon as you think them, almost before you even know they're there, and it startles you- but you still mean it, and maybe that's the startling part? He could, if he wanted to. You'd deserve it. He's been so unbearably kind and forgiving, beyond that one ill-fated kiss where he couldn't follow through from memories of your last time together. You understand it now, while you didn't quite as well then. A lot has changed in this period of time, and you smile. "Just trust me on that, Zack, please. Dan would never hurt me. I really..." Really what? You stop, fumbling for words, unsure what part of you is trying to speak, your head or your heart. Zack just looks at you quietly, waiting through it. He sees your eyes look to the side while you debate yourself.

"It's okay to say it. You love him." He almost chuckles the words. Your eyes turn sharply back to him, not having expected him to say it so openly at all. "Is that really such a surprise to you or so hard to let other people know you're capable of that?"

"Well... no," you admit, sinking slightly into the cushioning behind you. "I just don't want to mess it up this time, that's all."

Zack doesn't ask what you mean about 'this time,' and you thank your lucky stars for that.

"What does he do exactly, anyway? I know he's on YouTube, and you've mentioned some kind of band, I think?" This time you truly smile and shift yourself back upright.

"Which do you want to know first, the videos or the music?"

* * *

Dan is wary when there's a car at your house already that _isn't yours_ , isn't one he recognizes at all, but it's fine. Why should he know whose it is by sight? That crosses some kind of behavioral line, surely, and you must have friends he hasn't met yet. You had replied to him happily when he'd told you he was on his way- just like you asked- so maybe this visitor just lost track of time. That could very easily happen; Dan knows this exceptionally well. _It's nothing,_ he insists to himself forcefully. Nothing at all.

But he sees Zack sitting with you when he lets himself in like you've already said he can, laughing with you about something, and he hates it but he's _hurt_ and he's jealous and it's ludicrous. Zack isn't a threat. He knows this. If Zack wanted you, he would have made a move as soon as Dan came onto the scene. But he didn't- _hasn't_ \- and won't. So why does it bother him? It shouldn't even matter. It _doesn't_ matter.

But it does.

Because he's had to pretend to be unattached and uninvolved with you before, when in reality every fiber of his being was trying to weave together with yours. He was and still is every bit as attached to you as he was when you couldn't bring yourself to break up with Garrett.

"Hey!" You smile brightly when you swivel your body halfway around to look up at him. "Did you get everything done you needed to?"

"Yeah, no worries," Dan brushes off. At least your smile reassures him. It's genuine, warm and full of affection. When you would smile at him with Garrett, Dan always could pinpoint the sadness in it. There's none of that now. There is nothing going on here that shouldn't be.

That doesn't stop nerves in his stomach when he looks at Zack again. Why is he like this?

"Hey, Zack!" he greets, hoping his faked enthusiasm isn't caught. "Been a while. How's it goin'?"

"Hey, not bad," the bearded man shrugs. "(Y/N)'s been enlightening me on what you get up to. You've got a one-woman fan club right here, let me tell you."

"Hey!" you squeak, and Dan laughs. So does Zack, which he tries to ignore.

"I really do. She's too kind to me," Dan voices, looking at you, and you can feel the blush threatening to overtake your cheeks. Instead you look down, brushing some hair out of your eyes with the motion.

"Well," Zack begins, as he pushes himself to stand, "I'll leave you two alone. I should have left a while ago; got other things to do besides listen to you gush."

"I did not _gush,_ " you grumble, glaring in embarrassment.

"She gushed, man, don't listen to her," he directs to Danny.

"Can you stop now?"

"I don't know, I mean, I kind of like having someone tell me about how you talk about me," Dan teases. In truth, he isn't really too sure how he feels about you talking- _gushing_ \- about him to some other man. Zack is like a brother to you, he vaguely remembers you saying once, but it's still strange to him. He's trying so hard to remind himself this is nothing like Garrett, that nothing will ever be like Garrett again- but it just keeps _coming_ at him in the back of his mind, and he wishes he would have gotten here just later enough to escape this scene altogether.

He's missed whatever stop-picking-on-me rebuttle you must have had and Zack's about out the door before he snaps out of it.

"See you later, man," he manages before it's too late or it can be said he's ignoring anyone. Almost immediately once the door is closed, he sees you bound off that couch to him- but he takes a step back.

He hates himself so much right now.

"Danny, did something happen?" you ask, in that soft voice you get when you're too goddamn concerned and filled up with feelings for something or someone, and he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Not now. Not that one. "Danny, look at me," this time more firmly you say it, and you reach up and cup his face in your hands before he can get away from you again.

"Promise me you're not..." He can't even say it. He's going to react to it against his judgement and internal pleading, but he can't even say it to her. Fucking great. You watch him look down, embarrassed, and it doesn't take you long to figure things out.

"Zack?" you ask incredulously. That's how it is at first, until suddenly you realize it's not bemused disbelief but hurt. "You thought... You thought I could-"

"No, I didn't," Dan cuts you off, looking up at you. His hands cover yours and he holds them, squeezing softly. "I didn't think you could do that again, or that you would."

"Then why-"

"It still scares me, (Y/N)." He looks away from you again. "You have to understand how long I stood by and waited for you. How many times I watched some fucking dingus get to hold you in front of everyone and kiss you and call you his, when you _weren't_ , you were..." Dan's. You were Dan's, but he doesn't say it, somehow. "And he didn't love you, not like I did- but I had to keep waiting, (Y/N), and watching and pretending it was okay and like it wasn't stabbing me in the chest every single fucking time I looked."

Nothing from throughout the day could have prepared you for this. His voice rises through his explanation, from something soft to something impassioned yet defensive, but he holds himself back once he realizes it and it starts from the beginning again. He looks so confused and lost, and what makes your stomach sick is the sadness in his eyes. _You hurt him before, so much. Don't do it again,_ they seem to ask on his behalf.

You tug your hands free of his and wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can, burying your face into his chest. You can feel him resting his head atop your chin, but you don't feel his arms yet. You just pray you will in a minute.

"Please, (Y/N), I can't do that again," he all but whispers.

"You won't have to," you murmur into his shirt. "I promise. I promise to the moon and back, Danny."

You aren't sure how long it is that the two of you stand there silently. It doesn't take much time before he's holding you as well, and you find a comfortable place between his body and his arms, and your palms rub his back.

"I just get really scared sometimes that I won't be enough." It's a whispered confession, but you hear it loudly. It's a knife through you, that he would even think that.

"What do you mean, won't be enough?" you ask, voice shaking at how almost offended you are. It isn't meant that way, you're absolutely certain, but it still upsets you. After how hard you've tried to prove you've learned your lesson, after how much you've put into rebuilding this relationship- and he's still afraid of your judgement, while you've been tripping over yourself to regain _his_ favorably and his trust?

"Danny," you call to him firmly, though your voice still wavers as you push yourself back just enough to look up at him clearly. "Do you have any fucking idea how many times I have cried over you? Have I ever told you how many times I would google you in a fit of desperate loneliness and how I would sit there _sobbing_ because I lost you and seeing your face only reminded me what a piece of shit I am?"

"You're not a piece of shit," Dan tries to gently interject, but you won't let him.

"But I _was_ ," you talk over him. "Do you know how many times I said your name over someone else's? Do you know how many times I tried to type an email to Game Grumps to get in touch with you and I _couldn't do it,_ because why would you want to get in touch with me again? Why would you want to talk to the girl who fucking broke you? Your fucking face- from that last time, it _haunts me_ to this day, Dan, I used to wake up crying reliving that moment in a dream. I've had it happen since we found each other. It's probably going to happen again sometime, because I can't forgive myself for that. I can't live with myself half the time, Dan, alright? Is that what you wanted to hear? I hate myself, I just put on a brave face for everyone else so they think I'm doing okay."

You've started crying. Your cheeks are uncomfortably soaked and your eye makeup is undoubtedly threatened, but you can't stop yourself. This isn't what Dan meant to provoke at all, if anything, and his face shows it, but for a moment you think _it serves him right_. This is what he started. This is what he gets to hear, what you've been holding in all this time, not wanting him or anyone else to see.

"I have been the worst to you, Dan, and you're still here with me," you choke out on a shaky, ugly breath. You're a loud crier, something else you hate about yourself. Might as well add to the list while you're going at it. " _You_ get scared you're not enough? Try being me! Try living in fear that one day I'm going to wake up and this will all be a dream, that I'm going to lose you again, and the kicker is that I fucking deserve it-"

"That's enough," he interrupts, grasping your face in his hands to make you look at him. "Stop. Please." So you do. You stand there blubbering and sniffing and wishing you could learn to breathe quietly while crying instead of these loud shaky gasps. One of his thumbs is making gentle circles over your skin while the pair of you stand there and stare at each other. It's as if you're waiting for the other one to say something first, but neither of you can figure out the words.

"I don't care about the pictures," you whimper out finally, sniffing and blinking rapidly at tears, "or sexy texts or songs, or... or anything." You pause for another shaking breath. Dan almost smiles; you could swear you saw it for a blink of an eye. Better than you're doing, that's for sure. "It's just you. I love you, Danny, I love you so fucking much. That's all I want." When you hide your face against him again, you feel his arms slide around you again, just holding you.

"I don't think I ever stopped," Dan says softly above you. "I knew I was still in love with you when I first saw your band. I was so _proud_ of you, you know. You did so well up there, and you were- and you _are-_ so beautiful. And it's only gotten better since." He peers down at you, and you're shaking again and crying all over again and he winces. This is the opposite effect he'd intended to have. "Hey, don't cry anymore, okay? Hey... It's over now. We're both going to be fine." His voice is soothing and you nod against him, but that doesn't make the going any easier or faster. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead, just waiting for you, just like he always has. You don't deserve him, but he seems to think you do. "I'm not going to kiss you until you calm down." You laugh softly, or something akin to that; at least you're trying, and Dan smiles. There's his girl.

"I'm trying," you pout. His arms loosen enough to let you get your hands up to wipe your face off.

"Better?" he asks softly, a smile to match.

"Better," you reply. You return his smile, smaller and almost shy, feeling the post-cry embarrassment begin to encroach on you no matter how unnecessary it was. Dan doesn't give you time to dwell on that, pulling you close. You couldn't look away from his eyes even if you wanted to (which you don't, so there's a good thing). Your fingers find his jacket to hold in case your knees buckle under you. Is his face getting closer? It looks that way, but you don't trust your sight, not until your faces are too close to deny it.

"I love you," he murmurs against your lips, before he catches them with his. His hands are pressed tight into your back, wanting you as close to him as you can get, and you have no objections. Instantly you stand up on your tiptoes, pushing into the kiss and parting your lips if he wants it. It takes a moment, but in time your hands slide up from his jacket to around his neck, fingers tangling in his curls. He moans softly, and the corners of your lips upturn slightly.

When he pulls away, it's just enough to let his eyes go over your face, your red eyes and pink cheeks and the prettiest smile on the prettiest girl. He kisses you again, more gently this time but with no less feeling.

And again, and again, and again.

"I love you."


End file.
